Chaos Theory
by Normative Jean
Summary: The epidemic was a failed experiment, and the virus's mastermind targets the one doctor he believes can make it a success: Robin Scorpio. On the run from her childhood enemy, will the help of new friends and unexpected allies be enough to keep Robin safe?
1. Prologue

Author: Normative Jean Title: Chaos Theory  
Rating: K+-T; or nothing worse than the show. Chapters with language have specific warnings  
Disclaimer: I don't own _General Hospital_. Orignal characters (created by me) still exist within the confines of a pre-existing universe. I do this out of love for GH.  
Category: adventure/mystery/romance  
Pairing: Robin/Patrick, Lulu/OC, Sam/Jason, Sam/OC (later)  
Author's notes: I started writing this fic back in March for the Scrubs board. This stars Robin and Patrick, but features other characters as well, some old, some new, and some of whom you might not expect to see in a Scrubs-centric fic. It begins during the 3/20 episode, but veers off from canon after Robin storms out of Jakes, post-apology; the final Robin/Patrick scene in GH where they worry about what happened to Noah never happened in my universe. As you can probably guess, character development also veered away from canon a _long_ time ago.

Summary: The epidemic was just a experiment, and it was deemed a failure; it's mastermind is now targeting the only doctor he believes can make the experiment a success: Robin Scorpio. Robin finds herself trapped in the middle of an international mystery, on the run from an old family enemy she believed long dead. Patrick Drake is determined not to let anything mess up his chances at happiness with Robin, even if it means going along for the ride. Along with old friends and unexpected allies, can they keep Robin safe and stop a plot to take over the world?

**Prologue**

_Three days before the epidemic_

The moment one of his operatives in the Markham Islands had sent word that a suspicious American had come through the resort, the plan began forming in his brain. Upon receipt of photo identification of the American in question, the man had not been able to contain a chuckle of delight. If the pieces had been moved into a more perfect position, he would have suspected divine intervention. Of course, that would have required a belief in the divine, which the man did not possess. A belief in _Devane_ intervention, however...the man laughed at his own humor.

Really, it had been too long since he had seen old friends.

Proof of Luke Spencer so far from home had given the man a golden opportunity to see if the rumors were true. In his business, sometimes all he had were rumors and speculation, and now there was a chance to pull other old friends out of hiding if he could manipulate the Spencer situation perfectly. The man was many things, but slow-witted was not one of them.

It was like chess, he mused, where the pieces were people and the world was the game board. The man had always had a brilliant mind for chess.

So he had made his move. Current development was moved halfway across the world and quickly transplanted to the Markham Islands; it would look makeshift and secretive, which was exactly what the man wanted. Few things caused more fear in the Good Guys than crazy doctors operating without appropriate safety protocols. Research in place, the man had begun using the appropriate back-channels to let word of a new outbreak reach the appropriate ears. If rumors were to be believed, then one of the people tracking the new virus was just who the man had wanted to see. So he moved the pieces into place, making sure his lead operative in the Islands was firmly situated within the household that pulled Luke Spencer away from the resort and into the village. It required precise timing, certainly, but the man was nothing if not patient and methodical.

He stood there now, looking down at the unconscious body of his old adversary. Luke had always been a worthy opponent, but the man ruefully acknowledged he had more important things to be concerned with. Glancing down at his hand, he gazed at the photograph of a young woman with haunting eyes. "Soon," he murmured.

"Sir?" The man's senior operative stood at attention before his commanding officer, his deep African accent dropped for the clipped British one with which he really spoke. The man looked from Luke to his operative, and wondered, with some disappointment, when the great Luke Spencer had become so gullible.

"Yes, Norman?" the man replied.

"Everything is in place, sir. The laboratories, agents, and researchers are ready. They know who to be looking for."

"Excellent. And the virus?"

"Spencer has been made a carrier. Wherever he goes from here, it will go with him."

"Well done. Now, we must get this cleaned up. Leave no trace of our presence." The man looked pointedly at his operative. "You know the protocols."

"Indeed. Are you heading back to headquarters?"

"No. I'm afraid I must return to the States for a time. I have a...most effective cover operation there."

The man dismissed his operative. In a passing moment of weakness, the man wondered if he wouldn't derive more satisfaction from simply shooting Luke in the head, but let the thought go. The most important thing at the moment was to test the new virus for viability in broader field operations. The current research team -- who, the man noted with distaste, had been paid handsomely -- were having difficulties translating their theories into applications. So far, the virus only caused individual hallucinations and mental instability, not the controlled mental pliancy the man and his organization were hoping for. They needed new blood, a new mind to look at the problems and develop solutions.

Looking back at the photograph in his hand, the man wondered if the young woman who had been nothing more than a mere child the last time he had seen her would be the one to fix things. If she had the brilliance the medical world was rumoring she had, then the man could scarcely wait to have her working in his laboratories.

He wondered just how much like her mother the girl really was.

And if the current operation proved fruitful, then the man would be able to force his old nemesis to rise from the dead, and bring the associated destruction in his wake. He wondered if the girl had her mother's fire and her father's stubbornness, and he hoped to exploit both traits in his future endeavors.

After all, world domination was all well and good, but revenge always sweetened things.

Looking up at the stars, the man turned and faced east, the direction of the United States, of New York, of Port Charles. "Soon," the man said to the eastern sky. "Everything will fall into place soon enough. Then it will be time to visit some old friends."

The man signaled the rest of his operations team, and they boarded their organization's newest stealth air vehicle, taking off silently into the night. If the rumors were true, then his old friend would be moving in soon to "contain" the outbreak. Knowing Luke as he did, the man felt confident that Spencer would revive and be gone long before the dead walked again. Port Charles would never see any of it coming.

Like game pieces, the man had maneuvered everything into place.

Checkmate.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Present_

The late March air was cold and biting, which suited Robin's mood perfectly. It was dark, the sun having long since set despite the lengthening days, and thick gray clouds hung heavy in the sky. It would probably snow later, the last gasp of winter before everything broke away and spring arrived.

Even Nature seemed to hate the world right now, and Robin found herself in total agreement.

It was partly her own fault that she was so miserable right then, sitting alone on the docks trying desperately to stop crying. After all, if she didn't learn from the past, then why would things turn out any differently than they always did? Robin swore under her breath and wiped furiously at her eyes. She would not, would _not_ let Patrick Drake do this to her! She was no that girl anymore -- and hadn't been for some time, really -- and no man, no matter what he did, would turn her back to tears again.

A breeze picked up suddenly, and Robin shivered into her scarf. She had not anticipated the night turning out this way at all. Things had actually seemed like they would be different with Patrick; he had gotten her to believe they might have something between them. Robin figured that that, too, was partly her own fault, since she hadn't trusted her instincts about him. Her instincts had said to cut and run, that Patrick Drake was nothing but an arrogant, womanizing jerk, and that pursuing anything deeper than professional tolerance would be a Very Bad Idea. If tonight's events were any indication, Robin's instincts were as sharp as ever; it was her trust that was the problem. Robin hated that Patrick Drake had made her doubt herself, had made her believe that she could trust him--

No, that was wrong. Robin did not want to become like _her_, always blaming everybody else for the problems in her life. Robin was a pragmatist, not to mention a well-educated physician. If there was one thing Robin had over Carly Corinthos, it was that she always maintained a realistic view of herself and her situation. Robin had jumped to a terrible, hasty conclusion, yes, but she had owned up to it and offered an apology, seeking him out so as to clear the air as soon as possible. It was not enough, however, and Patrick had seen it fitting to humiliate her in front of the only woman in Port Charles he knew she couldn't stand. Robin had called him on his immature, vindictive behavior, and walked away with her head held high, determined never to doubt herself again. She would learn from her mistakes, personal and situational, and move on.

Which was why Robin hated that she was crying into her hands, alone on the docks in the dark, cold night. She had only herself to blame for trusting Patrick Drake with her heart because, as he had proven to her tonight with Carly, he didn't have one of his own.

Sam was beginning to wonder if she would spend the rest of her life walking. Every time the world overwhelmed her, she walked around Port Charles until her head cleared. Lately, it felt like all she did was clear her head. Sam was no stranger to hard luck, and at her most self-pitying moments she had even wondered whether she was born under a dark star. Now, in light of her new information, Sam was beginning to think there was some truth to the rumor of a Cassadine family curse. If such a thing existed, then Sam really _could_ blame Alexis for all the bad thing that had happened in her life.

Shaking her head furiously, Sam tried to force the thoughts away. This was precisely the reason she had bolted from the apartment earlier, to escape the trappings of her mind. The walls had begun to seem dangerously close, and the more Sam sat in the living room staring at the Alexis Davidovitch adoption file, the smaller the room began to feel. She was trapped there, brain and body, and Sam had suddenly found it difficult to breathe. Everything seemed focused to a point, and Sam had desperately needed to escape the enclosure. Jason was still dealing with the Sonny and Emily mess, and at that moment, their spacious apartment had felt tinier than a bird cage. So she had stood up, grabbed her coat, and ran as fast as she could away from the chaos of her life.

Sam had lost everything else to Alexis Davis. She'd be damned if she lost her sanity, too.

The sound of footsteps caused Robin to gasp and jerk her head up. The last thing she needed was for anyone to see her like this, least of all someone she knew. Robin tried to remain silent, but the sobbing from just a moment earlier was still wreaking havoc on her body, and Robin was unable to control the need to sniffle.

"Hello?" Sam called out as she walked down the steps to the docks. "Who's...Robin?"

Saw walked closer to the doctor, surprised to see her sitting alone so late at night. Robin wiped at her face, and Sam saw the obvious remnants of tears shining under the streetlamps.

"Robin?" Sam asked, concerned. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

Robin forced out a laugh that sounded hollow to them both. "Yeah, it's just...life stuff. Don't worry about it, Sam."

Sam was not deterred, however. While she knew Robin more through reputation than interaction, Sam was fairly certain that she was not the sort of woman who cried alone in deserted parts of town. Taking a breath, Sam sat beside Robin on the steps, worry coloring her face. "Well, I am concerned, actually. I mean, whatever's going on has to be pretty serious for you to be trying to fall apart where no one will see you. What's wrong?"

"It's...it's nothing. I think I just need to get out of my own head for a while," Robin sighed, dropping her head to her chest.

"Ah, well, _that_ I understand perfectly," Sam replied. "It can get way too crowded in there, especially when you let things catch you by surprise."

A real chuckle escaped Robin's lips. "Sounds disturbingly familiar." Robin pulled her head up and looked Sam in the eyes. "Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate the effort. But you don't feel a little...I don't know, weird talking to me?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, I'll admit I don't know you very well, but except for you helping that psychopath Manny get off scott-free," Sam looked pointedly at Robin, "I've heard only good things about you."

"You do know that my opinions on Manny Ruiz were based on the best available medical evidence?" Robin tensed and stood up to leave; she didn't have the strength to defend herself twice in one night.

Holding out her hands in defense, Sam cut Robin off. "Look, I really, _really_ don't want to think about that guy, or anything associated with him, tonight." Sam took a deep breath in and out, and let herself calm down. She wanted to deal with anything other than her own issues. "From what I've seen, you're kind and compassionate." Sam smiled when she saw Robin sit back down; she was passed her anger, and was determined to break the ice between them. "Not exactly someone I'd want to leave to fend for themselves."

Robin felt the crackle of tension between them dissipate. "Well," she said sardonically, "You obviously haven't been asking Carly about me, because she'd tell you about a whole different side of me. One _I_ didn't even know existed."

"Yeah, Carly has a knack for seeing things that nobody else seems to find," Sam laughed.

Robin smiled genuinely at Sam. "I take it you're not her number one fan either, huh?"

"Carly is...someone I deal with for Jason's sake. Not someone I would, say, make eye contact with if passing her on the street." Sam tilted her head to the side, wondering if this was a line of thought worth pursuing. "Is that was tonight was about? Did something happen with Carly?"

A frustrated sigh was Robin's only response. It baffled her, really, how it seemed like every interaction she had in Port Charles now was colored by Carly's presence. "Sort of. Not directly, I mean. Well, she was a part of it, but she's actually only my problem by proxy tonight," Robin finally said.

"Wow, a drama that Carly wasn't at the center of?" Sam grinned. "Break out the champagne." They both laughed at that, and Sam nudged Robin's shoulder with her own. "Seriously, you can talk to me. I'd actually like to focus on something besides my own problems for a while."

Robin debated whether to answer Sam or not. The idea of talking to someone who knew Patrick certainly had its advantages. Calling Brenda was always an option, but she was still too far removed from the situation to be anything more than moral support. And, if Robin was totally honest with herself, she missed having girlfriends in Port Charles; at the very least, she knew Sam wouldn't go blabbing anything she said to Carly.

"I did something really, really stupid tonight," Robin admitted, decision made. "I was supposed to have a date with Patrick--"

"Patrick _Drake_?" Sam interrupted, eyes wide. "Patrick 'cocky, arrogant, tried-to-impress-you-with-lame-lines' Drake?"

"Yes," Robin groaned. "I thought I saw a different side of him during the epidemic. A side that was actually, you know, human. And I figured, why not? So I kissed him, and I invited him over to my place for dinner."

"Wow," Sam murmured in appreciation. "You are just all kinds of surprising, aren't you?"

Robin grimaced. "And therein lies the problem. See, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, and when I overheard him having -- from his end, at least -- a very incriminating phone conversation, I assumed it was about me. And rather than get mad, I thought I'd get even."

"Can I ask what the conversation was about?"

Robin shook her head. "It was pretty bad. I heard him make a bet about getting a woman to 'do it,'" she made little air-quotes with her fingers, "And rather than find out what was _really_ going on, I assumed he had bet he could get the HIV-positive woman into bed."

Sam let out a low whistle. "Damn, that's pretty harsh."

"I know," Robin agreed, steeling herself to continue. "Anyway, I made this big show of seducing him so he could cash in, and then confronted him about how selfish and soulless he was for doing it. He denied it and we fought, and I found out later at the hospital that the bet was about Patrick convincing a mother to let her child have brain surgery. So I tracked Patrick down at Jake's to apologize."

"You did?" Sam asked, impressed. "I don't know if I could have even faced him, let alone just apologized like that. That's pretty great of you."

"Oh, wait. It gets better," Robin sighed. "I found him at Jake's. With Carly."

"No way does that end well."

"No. He made me apologize in front of her, which pleased Carly to no end. I mean, I was wrong to make that assumption, but I guess apologizing wasn't enough for Patrick. I called him on it and left. And came here." Robin waved her arm in front of them. "Thus ends the pathetic tale of Doctor Robin Scorpio." Turning to look at Sam, she asked. "Any insights or wisdom you'd like to share?"

Sam blew out a breath and shook her head. "Well, you know, what you did was pretty bad. I won't deny that. But you were willing to take responsibility for it and make amends, and it sounds like he shoved it back in your face." Sam shrugged. "I mean, you saw what he was like during Jason's surgery. Why'd you think he changed?"

Robin sighed, her face falling as she thought back to the kinder, compassionate side of him she had seen during the outbreak. "I thought I saw something different during the epidemic. I guess I was wrong."

At the mention of that, Sam's face darkened. "Yeah. I guess we all saw different sides of people during that time," she said, thinking of Alexis's behavior.

The change in Sam's attitude did not go unnoticed by Robin. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories for you," she apologized gently. "And I never got the chance to say how sorry I was about your brother."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, both at her sadness and her respect for Robin. "Thank you. I know you did everything you could do save people."

"Until I got sick," Robin groused, once again thinking back on how different Patrick had become.

"You gave up getting the serum so that more critically-ill patients could have a chance. That was incredibly selfless, and your dose almost went to Danny. So, thank you for that."

"I wish I could have done more."

Sam shook her head furiously. "You did everything you could. You were even willing to risk your own life to save other people. I just wish everyone was as good as you."

Sensing this was the reason Sam was walking alone on the docks that night, Robin peered over to look into the other woman's face. "Does this have anything to do with that DNA test you asked me to run?"

Swallowing hard, Sam nodded. "Yeah. Because Alexis took the serum away from Danny, he started saying his goodbyes, and some of the things he said made me think I was adopted. So, as it turns out, my entire life was a lie."

"I don't know what to say," Robin said quietly. "Have you been trying to figure out what to do with that information?"

"Oh, I ran with it," Sam laughed harshly. "And it took me to the last place I ever wanted to go. A mother who was so selfish that she abandoned me and never looked back."

Robin sighed in commiseration. Sam's words sounded all too familiar. "I completely understand. Parent's are supposed to protect their children, to not abandon them."

"To fight to come back if they're ever forced to leave."

"Until you grow up and find out that everything you ever thought about them was a lie, and learn that they just didn't care enough to fight for you," Robin finished, Sam's story now bringing up the memory of her father's return to life.

Sam and Robin looked at each other in surprise. "I thought that your dad was helping during the epidemic?" Sam asked in confusion.

"He was. He was just doing so after playing dead for fifteen years!" Robin bit out.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered.

"He let me believe he was dead, when really, he was off playing super-spy again. Even when he was out from under the control of his old agency, he _chose_ not to come back for me. He stayed away because it was easier for him."

Sam nodded in understanding. "Oh, I definitely hear you on that. I mean, why seek your kid out if it would complicate your life, right?" Sam knew her words were caustic, but she felt confident Robin would understand they were intended in truth.

"Exactly," Robin agreed. Then, she felt a bubble of laughter rise up inside of her. "God, what a matched set we are, huh?"

Sam had to laugh, too. The last person she had ever expected to bond with was Robin Scorpio. She found, however, that it was not as painful as she had feared. It was even nice to have another woman to talk to; as it was, she only ever really spoke to Alexis and Carly, and neither made for relaxing conversation.

Decision made, Sam stood up and grabbed Robin's arm. "C'mon."

Robin stood as well, but looked warily at Sam. "Where to?"

"Kelly's," Sam replied. "Ice cream sundaes and hot chocolate cure all ills."

Robin laughed. "Ice cream in the winter?" she asked incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

"And hot chocolate!" Sam added, smiling for what felt like the first time in ages. "Seriously. We've thoroughly depressed ourselves. Now we get to reward ourselves."

"For what, complaining about men and deadbeat parents?"

"Yep!"

Robin shook her head, but smiled. She _did_ feel a little better after actually talking to someone, and she had to admit that Sam was a good listener. Besides which, she didn't regard Carly as anything other than an annoyance, which spoke of Sam's good taste. And her sanity. Sighing, Robin followed Sam back up the steps and headed towards Kelly's talking the entire way.

For the first time in a long while, Robin felt like things might get better.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

All things considered, Robin felt like she was having a good day.

After the debacle with Patrick, and her later abject humiliation in front of Carly, Robin had found a surprising confidante in Sam McCall. Of all the people Robin had never expected to find common ground with in Port Charles, her ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend was certainly at the top of the list. But Robin and Sam had talked, and bonded over mutual distaste for absentee parents, and had laughed over ice cream and hot chocolate at Kelly's Diner. What had started out a thoroughly depressing evening had ended up on something resembling a positive note. By the time they had parted ways, Robin felt more at peace with what had happened between her and Patrick. Sam had been rather insightful about the whole thing, putting it in a different context than she had.

_"If he doesn't have the decency to keep your problems private," Sam had asked between spoonfuls of her double-fudge sundae, "What makes you think he would have kept silent about..._other _aspects of any relationship between you two?"_

Robin had been forced to concede the point, and Sam's words had just reinforced her own assessment of Patrick as nothing more than a womanizer. She snorted at that thought. He probably _would_ have bragged. It was just the kind of thing that he _did_.

She had slept well last night, something she hadn't been expecting. The day was shaping up to continue her positive streak. Two of Robin's patients were showing positive responses to their drug therapies, and another three had qualified for a new protocol developed in Geneva and recently approved for use in the United States. She had managed a coffee break with Elizabeth Spencer -- Robin could not have asked for a better wife for her old friend, Lucky -- and, the cherry on top, she had not seen Patrick at all. Robin knew she would have to face him sooner or later, but she felt no shame in hoping it was later as opposed to sooner. Even if it meant delaying a surgical consult for one of her patients. She supposed she could always ask Noah...

"Dr. Scorpio, daydreaming about me again?"

She should have known her luck would run out.

Patrick Drake sauntered up to the Nurse's Station and leaned across the desk, putting one of his charts back in the rack. "If you hadn't left so hastily last night, we might have been able to work something out."

Robin could not believe he was brushing off what had happened so casually. "Well, as tempting as that sounds," she replied coolly, "I had more important things to do. Like dust my furniture."

"Ouch, the Scorpio sting." Patrick smirked as he spoke, irking Robin to no end.

Shrugging, Robin began flipping through lab notes. "Whatever, Patrick. I'm sure you were fine with Carly."

Patrick leaned across the desk and tried to peer up into Robin's eyes. He was determined to get a rise out of her. Sometimes it seemed to be the only way to get _any_ display of emotion towards him. "The dreadful truth comes out. You _were_ jealous of Carly."

Robin couldn't take it anymore. She was so tired of all her conversations somehow coming back to that woman. Standing up straight, Robin walked around the desk and grabbed a pen, scribbling on her chart as she talked. "No. And you know what, Patrick? I'm not even sure why we're discussing this."

"Because we're not finished," he answered, losing some of his flippancy. _He_ certainly felt they weren't done talking about it.

"Well, I said everything I needed to last night," Robin shrugged.

"And I didn't." Patrick felt his good mood slipping. He had no idea how this woman could get him to revved up from zero to 100 and then shoot back to zero so quickly; being involved with Robin Scorpio was like being on a roller coaster. Or one of those carnival rides that locked you in a cage and then spun you upside down and sideways for five minutes, and then made you want to throw up. The adrenaline rush was like nothing else, but Patrick was never sure if wanting to continue was a sign of mental instability or not.

"Look," Patrick continued, moving to stand next to Robin. "I let you get in some really cheap shots last night, and then you somehow managed to turn your apology into another round of 'Insult Patrick,' and you somehow think you were wronged here?" He felt his frustration growing again.

Robin snapped the chart shut and stared him in the eyes, her face darkening with anger. "Anything I said to you last night, no matter how terrible, was said in _private_. Between you and me, without involving anyone else. You, apparently, do not believe in keeping our problems between _us_. I see no reason to continue any of this." She thrust the chart out to him. "I need a consult."

Patrick gaped, not believing Robin was dismissing him so completely for getting a little revenge for all the things she had said. "Are you kidding me?"

"No," Robin replied. "If you won't do it, I'll go find your father--"

Patrick grabbed the chart from Robin's hand. "I'll do it later today."

Robin nodded. "Thank you." And with that, she turned, took another folder off the desk, and walked away towards her lab.

Patrick stood dumbfounded at the Nurse's Station. He ignored the questioning look Elizabeth was shooting his way. Patrick had a sinking feeling that he had screwed up worse than he had thought last night. Evidently, Robin did not view retribution in the same light that he did. He honestly hadn't thought asking her to apologize in front of Carly was so terrible, but Patrick was starting to think he didn't know just how bad the blood between Robin and Carly really was. And he was beginning to realize it would take a lot more than _quid pro quo_ to get back to solid standing with Robin.

Sighing in frustration, Patrick stalked off in the opposite direction Robin had gone. He had a surgery to scrub in for, and he needed to not be thinking about Robin Scorpio.

Well, Robin mused, the day had gone _mostly_ well.

Patrick had indeed followed up with her patient later on, and they had been nothing but cool, professional, and impersonal with each other. They had left the patient's room and Patrick had tersely agreed to schedule a surgery for the following Monday. Then he had left, and Robin didn't see him again before her shift ended.

Sighing in frustration, Robin pushed open the front door of Kelly's. If she continued seeking out comfort food every time she and Patrick went twelve rounds, Robin was sure she'd end up weighing three hundred pounds. Still, she thought, Kelly's chili sounded _really_ good at the moment.

She paid little attention to her surroundings as she walked to the counter to order. Robin smiled when she saw her cousin, Georgie, working the cash register. "Hey," Robin smiled.

Georgie perked her head up at the sound of her cousin's voice. "Robin!" she grinned. "How are you?"

"In desperate need of comfort food right now," Robin admitted. "An order of chili and cornbread, please?"

Georgie frowned. "What's wrong?"

Robin shook her head. "Nothing some really good food won't help fix."

Nodding, Georgie wrote down the order. "No problem. You want anything to drink?"

"Iced tea."

"One sugar, one slice of lemon, right?"

Robin smiled gratefully. "I love you very, very much right now, Georgie."

Georgie waved her off. "Of course you do," she laughed. "Go find a seat and I'll bring it out in a few minutes, okay?"

Robin scanned the diner for a seat when she heard a voice call her name from the back corner. Turning around, she saw Nikolas Cassadine sitting alone, waving slightly with a small, but genuine, smile on his face. She walked over to him and pulled her old friend into a tight hug when he stood up. "Nikolas," she greeted warmly.

Nikolas returned her smile, but Robin could see the sadness that still haunted his eyes. Sitting down across from him, she reached out and grasped his hand. "How are you?" she asked softly.

"I'm coping," he shrugged. Then, with a mirthless laugh, he added, "Well, I'm coping better than I was a week ago, anyway."

Robin nodded in understanding. "I'm so sorry about Courtney. I wish I had known her."

Nikolas sighed. "I wish you had, as well. She was very...full of life," he said fondly. "You would have liked her."

"I'm sure I would have," Robin agreed. "Anyone who could capture your heart like this must have been a wonderful person."

He nodded, falling silent as he leaned forward to prop his head up on his hands. Nikolas studied Robin, an inquisitive look passing through his dark eyes. Robin found herself staring right back, easily slipping into the same comfort zone she had always shared with the Cassadine prince.

"So, I've been hearing things..." Nikolas finally said.

Robin flinched. She knew that tone in his voice. "What things? And from whom? And whoever said what, they're probably wrong."

Nikolas laughed, the first genuine amusement he had felt since Courtney died. "A gentleman does not reveal his sources," he smirked. "And I've been hearing about a hospital dalliance for the good Dr. Scorpio."

Robin groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Elizabeth is a busybody," she moaned.

Laughing again, Nikolas reached over and gently pushed Robin's face up. "Yes, and that's part of why we love her." His smile dropping a bit, he took note of the utter lack of happiness on Robin's face when discussing the topic. "What happened?" he asked. "Who hurt you and how should we go about getting revenge?"

At that, Robin burst out laughing. It felt good to be able to talk to her friends again, and it felt even better to know that there were people in Port Charles who would always take her side. "It's Patrick Drake," she sighed. "The neurosurgeon who operated on Jason?" she asked, trying to jog his memory.

"You mean the arrogant SOB who spends his spare time -- for reasons not readily apparent to anyone besides himself -- playing guard dog in the NICU?"

"Ooo-kay..." Robin said slowly. "I'm not sure about the second part, but the arrogant doctor, yes." Sighing again, she briefly described the last 24 hours of her life. "I was wrong, I know that, but he couldn't let the apology lie. He felt a little abject humiliation was in order, and then today he acted like we were fine and right where we were before that disastrous date yesterday."

Nikolas leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, he's a jerk who obviously doesn't know how to treat women with dignity or respect. And I won't even address the Carly issue." Seeing her pained look, Nikolas straightened up and reached out to squeeze Robin's hand. "I'm sorry. You actually cared for him, didn't you?"

Robin sighed, slumping in her seat. "I wish I could say it was past tense, but I don't think I can. No matter how miserable he proved himself to be last night, I really do have feelings for him. I can't just turn them on and off, no matter how much easier it would make my life."

They fell silent for a few moments. Robin relaxed for the first time all day in Nikolas's quiet strength, and the addition of her dinner that Georgie brought over only made the air of homeyness and comfort around her grow. She was so relaxed that she didn't even pay attention when the diner's front door opened.

Nikolas, however, was paying attention; he was facing the front of the diner, and had ample time to make his decision when he saw Patrick Drake walk in front of the window before opening the door. Patrick paused momentarily upon seeing Robin at Nikolas's table, and Nikolas took the opportunity to pose his question to Robin. No one hurt the people he cared about without paying, and Nikolas himself knew he needed a night out with a friend to help him deal with his own pain.

"Robin," Nikolas asked. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to the grand re-opening of the Haunted Star tomorrow night?"

Robin blinked and, unbeknownst to her, so did Patrick, who had sat down at the table behind them. He could hear everything they were saying, but Robin would never know he was there.

"You want to go to a party thrown by Luke? Luke _Spencer_?" she asked, a bit incredulous.

Nikolas smiled. "Luke is my brother and sister's father, despite whatever bad blood remains between us." He squeezed Robin's hand, purposely paying no attention to Patrick. If he thought he saw the doctor tense out of the corner of his eye, well, that was just a trick of the light. "Come on. We'll have fun. I could use a night of fun for a change."

"I had thought about pulling an extra shift," Robin hedged, still unsure.

"Robin," Nikolas said gently. "I remember you said once that the hardest thing for you to do after Stone died was to remember to breathe. That's what I'm trying to do right now. I want to try to breathe again, and I can think of no better company in which to do that than an educated, cultured, beautiful woman."

She had to laugh at that. "Boy, you sure know how to turn on the charm."

"Royalty should always have a way with words."

"And you're right," she nodded. "I can't let myself get bogged down in this. A night out with good friends at a Luke Spencer party should prove to be interesting, if nothing else." Robin smiled. "I would love to go with you."

Robin didn't hear the person behind her get up and leave the table, nor did she see Patrick exit Kelly's. He stayed outside, however, and watched Robin and Nikolas through the front window.

"A Scorpio and a Cassadine together at a Spencer party," Nikolas grinned, both at the irony and at his snub towards the arrogant doctor who had both hurt Robin and denied him access to Courtney's baby.

"It's enough to send your grandmother to a long-overdue grave," Robin teased.

Patrick watched as Robin and Nikolas laughed together. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it didn't really matter. He was watching his chance with the annoying, self-righteous, beautiful, intelligent, infuriating, and captivating Robin Scorpio wash down the proverbial drain. Patrick Drake was not the sort of man who went down without a fight, and he was hard-pressed to remember the last time he had lost anything he had set his mind to obtaining.

Robin may have caused him no end of aggravation, but she was in his mind and -- he was almost afraid to think it -- somewhere in his heart. In the end, he knew that he wanted her, and that he was willing to deal with the good and the bad aspects of her personality. Patrick knew he was going to have work harder than he ever had before if he wanted to convince Robin to try again with him.

Pursuing Robin Scorpio had started off as a challenge. Now, it was going to be a challenge to keep her.

Patrick Drake had never been afraid of a challenge.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Robin had to admit, getting dressed up for an evening out and attending a party surrounded by friends was exactly what she had needed.

Luke had certainly gone all out to redecorate the Haunted Star, and had made sure his guest would be dressed accordingly. Robin grinned as she ran her hand along the purple silk she was draped in; she always felt like she needed an excuse to spend an obscene amount of money on clothes, but attending a party on the arm of the Cassadine Prince a better one than most. It had been a long time since Robin had felt like a princess, and Robin forced herself to remember that being treated like a goddess by a man was what she wanted. She _certainly_ didn't want a relationship build on snark and sarcasm, on challenging everything the other said, on professional respect and breaking personal trust boundaries--

No. She was _not _going there tonight. This was exactly the reason why she was dressed to the nines and out with Nikolas. She wanted to look good and feel good, and thinking about Patrick Drake would not help either of those matters. The party had been in full swing for nearly an hour, and Robin really _was_ having the best night since she had returned to Port Charles. She had made the rounds once on Nikolas's arm, and had since been spending the majority of their time with Lucky and Elizabeth. Emily Quartermaine, whom Elizabeth had convinced to come out for the evening, had long since left their group, though Robin suspected it wasn't only due to the awkwardness of being with her ex-husband and his date (however platonic). Robin had enjoyed a light conversation with Alexis Davis and Ric Lansing, who had insisted she come over for dinner soon, so that Kristina would see "the Doctor Robin who gave birth to my sister!" Robin and Nikolas had found that as amusing as Alexis and Ric; she had not seen the Davis-Lansings, however, since they sat down at the Blackjack table a half-hour ago.

It was, Robin mused, shaping up to be a pleasant evening.

"I'm so glad Nikolas convinced you to come, Robin," Liz said, holding a flute of champagne in her hand. "It feels like I never see you outside of hospital scrubs."

"I know," Robin replied. "I think the last time I saw Lucky was in the hospital." She looked pointedly at her old friend. "Not even a 'Hey, wanna grab a cup of coffee?' since then."

Lucky held up his hands in mock-defense. "I've been busy!"

"Does Mac not let you take breaks?" Nikolas asked, overly solicitous.

"It's not as if Port Charles is a quiet little town," Lucky snorted. "We all know how busy the police are here."

They all laughed at that. "That's a fair point," Robin smiled. "We don't ever seem to get a day off here."

"No kidding." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Why'd you want to leave Paris again?"

Robin couldn't help but giggle again, her arm wrapped in Nikolas's, as the conversation drifted from topic to topic. This was what she was missing, she decided. Nice, normal evenings with good friends and good conversation.

She should have known it wouldn't last.

Patrick entered the casino with his date, Dr. Claudia Lee, on his arm, and immediately began scanning the floor for Robin. He supposed some people would find it distasteful to be looking for one woman while on a date with another, but Patrick and Claudia had discussed it earlier, and both knew they were attending the Haunted Star opening as friends. Patrick felt a sense of pride in himself that he could go on a date _without_ the assumption of sex at the end of the evening; he was choosing to ignore Claudia's earlier remark that he was "seriously hung up on Robin Scorpio." He already knew that, and he didn't need an OB-GYN, no matter how great she looked in formalwear, to tell him that.

With a Scotch neat in one hand and Claudia Lee in the other, Patrick began making the requisite circle through the room. He had attended enough black tie events during his life to know that before he could find a spot from which to seek out Robin, he would need to say hello to the major players at the tables. Besides, with his salary, he would most likely be playing against them later on that night.

Settling in behind a poker table where a few others had gathered to watch a very interesting game, Patrick graciously waved Claudia off as she went to find the instant-gratification game of roulette. Sipping his drink, Patrick settled in to watch Robin, whom he had spotted standing with Lucky and Elizabeth Spencer and, to Patrick's frustration, her date, Nikolas Cassadine, talking quietly near the bar. He had the perfect vantage point from where he was to watch Robin with her friends, and he found himself hoping that Cassadine's hand slipped a little lower so that Patrick would have an excuse to rush over there and get between him and Robin. He also found himself wondering what it would be like to make her laugh so freely.

It figured, then, that if Robin turned around and saw him talking to Carly, she would never give him the chance to fix things.

"Patrick!" Carly greeted gaily, rushing over to him and pulling Jasper Jacks along behind her.

"Carly," he returned, substantially more subdued than she had been. "I see you've bounced back from the other night."

Carly laughed and wrapped her arm through Jax's, who smiled in greeting to Patrick. Patrick couldn't quite discern the expression on the other man's face, but it looked eerily similar to the way Robin looked at a lab specimen.

He was being studied.

"So," Carly said, "I take the lack of the leech to mean you got over your little Robin fixation?"

"Carly," Jax warned.

"Carly, believe me when I say that Robin is the _last_ topic I want to discuss with you right now." Well, Patrick thought, strictly speaking, that was the truth.

Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, Carly shrugged. "Fine by me. So, Patrick, what do you think of my Uncle Luke's boat?"

Carly and Jax began debating the merits of floating versus land-locked casinos, and Patrick tried to pay attention while surreptitiously glancing over Jax's shoulder to look at Robin. There she was, with her arm wrapped in Nikolas Cassadine's. Patrick felt a moment of perverse pleasure at the memory of denying Cassadine the right to visit the Matthews-Jacks baby; someone needed to remind the Dark Prince that he couldn't _always_ get whatever he wanted. Just as Patrick was settling in to watch Robin, he saw her turn in his direction. Her face fell stony and cold and, upon seeing he was with Carly, she promptly turned her back on him and returned to her conversation with Nikolas, Lucky, and Liz.

It figured his night would go to hell.

"Robin!"

The voice called out from behind her, and Robin turned from her group to see who was looking for her. She found Sam on the entryway staircase waving at her, pulling a reticent Jason Morgan into the casino. Sam made her way through the crowd towards Robin and the others, pausing to take a glass of champagne from one of the passing waiters. Sam and Jason came up beside Robin and Nikolas, Sam looking distinctly happier to see them than Jason did.

"Hey, Sam," Robin greeted. "How are you?"

"Hello, Sam," Nikolas smiled.

Jason merely dipped his head towards them, before raising his gaze to scan the room.

Sam looked questioningly at her fiancée, but shrugged it off and returned her attention to the others. "How are you enjoying the evening?" she asked with a smile.

Robin appreciated Sam's efforts in spite of Jason's coldness; she supposed she couldn't really blame him for feeling uncomfortable. She was curious, though... "What's he looking for?" Robin leaned in and whispered to Sam.

Sam lowered her eyes, deciding how much to reveal to Robin. Eventually, she settled on total honesty. "He's looking for Sonny and Emily."

Robin's eyes widened. "I knew Sonny threatened Patrick after he went out with Emily, but I didn't know that they were--"

"I don't know for sure that they are," Sam hurried to explain, still whispering. "But Jason has been really preoccupied by this for the last few days. He's worried about both of them..." she bit her lip and sucked in a deep breath. "You know how he is."

Robin nodded silently. It was an awkward situation from every direction; just talking about it required Sam to acknowledge the place Robin had once held with both Jason and Sonny. "So basically," Robin said, trying to lighten the mood, "Man troubles all around?"

Sam smiled gratefully at the out Robin had given her. They turned to rejoin the others in conversation, when Robin saw Nikolas's eyes narrow suddenly. She frowned, wondering what had caused his sudden change in demeanor. Following his eyes, she saw he was glaring at Patrick, who was still talking with Carly and Jax, but who was also staring across the room at Robin.

"Um, Robin?" Sam asked, noticing Patrick looking their way as well. "You do know that Patrick's been staring at you since we got here."

"He seems determined to get back to where we were before." Robin shrugged. "The man doesn't know how to handle rejection."

"Should I go talk with him?" Lucky asked, and shared a look with Nikolas that clearly said they were on the same page regarding Patrick Drake.

"No," Robin said forcefully. "If I just ignore him, eventually he'll get bored and move on."

"What are you going to do?" Liz raised an eyebrow. "Pray he has a short attention span?"

"Maybe if I just throw something shiny in the other direction, he'll get distracted?" Robin said, not completely joking.

They all laughed, which caught Jason's attention. Turning back to the group, he picked up on the last thing that had been said. "What about Patrick Drake?"

Robin rolled her eyes. The last thing she needed was Jason feeling some sort of reactionary propriety. "Nothing," she assured him, feeling Nikolas's arm tighten just a bit around her waist. "Just a problem between him and me that he refuses to allow to be solved."

"Apparently, there was more to his baiting Robin during your surgery than we thought," Sam added, a twinkle in her eye. She caught Robin's look and said, "Just out of curiosity, did he express a real interest in any woman besides you after that?"

"Carly."

"That's not serious." Sam brushed off the reply. "He knows you and Carly have a history, so he was using her to get a rise out of you."

"Whose side are you on?" Robin asked incredulously.

Sam held her hands up in defense. "Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it."

Robin sighed and took a long drink from her champagne. Jason eyed her suspiciously, then turned his gaze to Patrick, before returning to scan the room for signs of Sonny or Emily.

The rest of the group began chatting, and Robin once again found herself wondering just when her life had stopped making sense. She was talking with her ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend, who was laughing like they had always been friends. Her ex-boyfriend-but-not-really kept eyeing Robin from across the room, and several of her oldest friends looked like they were trying to decide where to hide his body.

There was definitely something in Port Charles' water supply.

"Oh my God."

The look of disgust that washed over Carly's face caused both Patrick and Jax to follow her line of sight. Patrick frowned. "Whatever you're going to say, just don't," Patrick warned.

Not taking her eyes off the group across the room, Carly sneered, "Why on earth is Jason talking to _her_? Or any of them?"

"Well," Jax broached. "It doesn't look like he's _talking_, so much as just standing in their general vicinity."

Carly shuddered and put her glass down the table. "I have to go find out what's going on."

"I thought you said--"

Jax's words went unheeded as Carly stormed across the room and grabbed Jason's arm, pulling him away from Robin, Sam, and the others.

"--you weren't going to worry about Jason or Sonny tonight," Jax finished, as much for Patrick's benefit as his own. Looking at his watch, Jax chuckled. "Well, that resolution lasted all of forty-five minutes."

"My understanding is that Carly and Jason are best friends," Patrick said. "Why wouldn't she be involved in his life?"

Jax laughed outright, and Patrick had the uncomfortable feeling he was being patronized. "Carly believes that her friendship with Jason affords her the right to say and do whatever she pleases to him, up to and including kicking other women out of his life."

That caught Patrick's full attention. Was that what had happened to make Robin and Carly mortal enemies? Couching it in a casual air, Patrick posed the question to Jax.

Rather than answer him, Jax turned away from Patrick, pointing towards Robin and the others. "Tell me what you see."

Frowning, Patrick looked across the room. "I see Robin, Nikolas Cassadine, Sam McCall, and Elizabeth and Lucky Spencer."

"No," Jax said insistently. "Tell me what you _see_."

"Look, what the hell is the point of this?" Patrick groused. "I just asked a simple question."

"And I am trying to answer you," Jax rejoined. "Look over there. Look at Robin. She's laughing, she's talking, drinking champagne. She's having _fun_." Jax turned back to Patrick. All traces of humor or frivolity were gone from his eyes, and suddenly Patrick's earlier thought made sense. Jax _had_ been studying him, but not to find out if he was a worthy adversary.

To find out if he was worthy of Robin.

"I don't know you," Jax began, voice soft and eyes hard. "You saved Jason Morgan's life, which I can't say speaks very highly of you, but Robin seems to think you're one of the best doctors she's ever seen. I'm choosing to believe Robin's assessment. However," he continued, stepping closer to Patrick, "I can't say that the way you were sniffing around for a fight with her last week bolstered my confidence in you as a potential suitor for her."

"What are you, her guard dog?"

"No, I'm her friend, which means you want to impress me right now." Jax came very close and stepped into Patrick's personal space. His face gave nothing away as he spoke. "Why are you pursuing Robin when it's clear she wants you to back off?"

Patrick debated his options for a moment. He could fall back on his own bravado and cocksure attitude, say something flip, and walk away. His pride would remain intact, but he would blow any chance he had left with Robin straight to hell. Patrick didn't doubt that Jax would make their encounter known to Robin, and he was certain that Jax would give Robin his opinion of Patrick. The second option would require him to swallow his pride, throw attitude out the window, and do something he hadn't done in a very long time: own up to genuine feelings for a woman.

Crap.

"I care about her," Patrick finally said. "I don't know when it became about more than the chase, or how the hell she got under my skin, but it did and she is." As he spoke the words, a surprise wave of laughter ripped out of him. Yeah, Robin definitely made him want to throw up, but Patrick was beginning to suspect it was the good kind of adrenaline rush. Whatever this was, he wanted to keep feeling it, and he had been holding everything back for a damn long time. Acknowledging his feelings for Robin was like having a dam burst inside his head.

"She's annoying. And self-righteous. And really, _really_ pushy." Patrick began pacing a bit, knowing the words were coming out in a jumble and not even caring that he was saying them to a virtual stranger. "But she's brilliant. I've never met someone who thinks up drug combinations like she does. I'd be upset that she's actually prevented me from needing to do surgery on patients, but I can't even deny that she made them better than I could have. Mind you, it doesn't happen often, but it does happen. And," he grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter and gulped down half of it, "She's really small. Seriously, since when do grown ups come in such tiny bodies? _And_," Patrick wasn't even paying attention to Jax anymore, "She has really brown eyes. If I were given to poetic confessionals, I'd think of something better to say, but I'm a doctor, you know? But they're brown, and really pretty. And she needs to smile more often. God, she's beautiful when she smiles. I mean, I guess I can understand why she doesn't, what with everything she's been through, but she always seems so strong, you know? She looks beautiful tonight."

Patrick's voice faded out as he realized he had just broken down completely in front of someone he didn't even know. But Jax did know Robin, and in spite of the overwhelming urge to throw himself over the side of the boat, swim to shore, and screw the first nurse he could find back at General Hospital, Patrick stood his ground. Sighing, he turned to face Jax and hear his fate. "Well?"

Jax burst out laughing. "Wow!" he chortled. "You've gone completely crazy over that woman, haven't you?" Jax slapped Patrick on the back and gripped his shoulder good-naturedly. "I think it's safe to say that whatever you did, it's not totally irreparable."

"Hey, how do you know that _I_ did something?" Patrick asked, mildly offended.

"Because Robin always owns up to her mistakes. If she had done something, she would have apologized, and you're so far gone that you would have accepted."

Patrick had the good grace to feel guilty, and to not say anything. "So?" he asked. "How do I fix things?"

Jax looked thoughtful. Patrick took the opportunity to glance to the side and look at Robin, who was now involved in an in-depth conversation with Sam and Liz. Jason had returned to Sam's side, and he looked like he was dying quietly. Patrick chuckled at the sight, because Robin was very obviously _un_affected by the hitman's presence; it made Patrick feel better about his own situation. At least he had proven he could suck up his embarrassment. Except, Patrick thought, if Jason was back with Sam, then where was--?

"Don't worry about Carly." Jax interrupted his thoughts. "She's over by the roulette wheel with Sonny. That should keep her occupied for at least another half-hour. Now, about your problem."

"Yes?"

"A book."

Patrick frowned. "A book?" That was supposed to get Robin to forgive him? Because the only book that came immediately to _his_ mind was one she probably wouldn't read until they were several months into a monogamous relationship. Wow. Monogamy.

"Robin's intelligent and educated, and very thoroughly pissed at you, if the pointed way she's been avoiding you all evening is any indication. You need something gentle and non-threatening, but that shows you put a lot of time, thought, and money into the gift."

"Money...? Ah. A first edition of something, maybe?" Patrick thought the idea had some merit.

Jax nodded, smiling. "Sounds good. Something that speaks to her mind and her spirit."

"Like what?"

With a Cheshire Cat-like grin, Jax nodded. "Uh-uh. I've pointed you down the path. Now, it's time for you to walk it alone." Jax tipped his glass in salutation to Patrick, and wandered away into the crowd, leaving the doctor standing alone with a pensive expression on his face.

A first edition of something that would appeal to Robin's mind and spirit? A few genres immediately came to his mind. He would have to drive into Manhattan that weekend and scour the old bookshops in the Village. There was that one place he had heard mentioned by that Lit grad student he had dated before coming to Port Charles...

Plan in mind, Patrick set out to make some money at the poker tables. He would need to pay for Robin's forgiveness somehow.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Patrick had debated between driving down to Manhattan or taking the train, but ultimately decided that if he was going to be involved in a mass-casualty accident, it would be under his own power. Seriously, he wondered, what kind of town has a _train crash_ and a manmade viral epidemic within three months of each other?

Driving in Manhattan was not something Patrick had ever been particularly fond of; it took a certain kind of crazy to do that, and Patrick just did not possess that sort of death wish. But the ride down had provided him time to think about Robin, how she had looked the other night at the Haunted Star, and just how utterly stupid he had been. He thought back to all their conversations since meeting when he had accused her of being isolated and introverted, of having no life beyond the hospital walls. Had he ever been wrong. Patrick grimaced thinking of how he couldn't even get close to Robin at the Haunted Star opening; every time he even _wandered_ near her, her friends seemed to close ranks, keeping Robin at the center of a very tight, very boisterous circle all night. The closest Patrick had managed to get was the bar, where he had ended up drinking a bit more than he had intended to. It was also where he had gotten his second major shock of the night, courtesy of Luke Spencer.

_"I just don't get what happened," Patrick had muttered into his glass. The double Scotch Luke had poured seemed like a better idea now that he was half-finished with the glass._

_"Well, Young Drake," Luke had said, smiling and leaning in to speak quietly. "Anybody with half a brain could have told you that the fastest way to cool Robin's lust for you would be to throw Carly in her face."_

_Patrick frowned. "How do you even know about that?"_

_"A master never reveals his secrets."_

_"You...oh," Patrick said, remembering who Luke was related to. "Elizabeth Spencer is a busybody."_

_Luke had chuckled. "Perhaps. But obviously, no one has clued you in on some very basic operating procedures in Port Charles. For Robin's sake, it looks like I once again have to be the voice of reason and wisdom in this godforsaken town."_

_"I thought Carly was your niece?" Patrick asked, confused as to why Luke seemed to be taking Robin's side in whatever had happened._

_"Caroline may be my sister's daughter," Luke said softly, "But Robin Scorpio is family. Now, listen carefully, Young Drake, and all shall be revealed."_

Luke had told Patrick every sordid detail of Robin and Carly's history together, while Patrick had sat listening in abject horror. It seemed he had made a very big mistake, and he had continued making it. What Patrick had seen as a way to get under Robin's skin was really the one thing guaranteed to push her further and further away from him. Robin was right, he _was_ scum.

But he was scum with a plan. Patrick _knew_ he only had one shot left at making things right between him and Robin. It was strange, he mused, how they had only been on a few dates (if he included their first not-a-date and the whole blackmailing thing), had only kissed twice, and it felt like they were already deep into an emotionally-involved relationship. Wow. Relationship. If Mel could see how far gone he was now...

Patrick paid the attendant at the parking garage he had found; navigating his very expensive car through the relatively well-designed streets of the Upper West Side and Midtown was one thing, but like hell was he going to attempt to drive through Lower Manhattan. Now that he was in the city, he would take the subway, just like he always had. It would be easiest to get off at Franklin and wander around Tribeca for a while. If his experiences with Robin had taught him anything, it was that anything worth having was worth looking for. The store he remembered being told about during dinner than one time should have been off of West Broadway somewhere; the girl he had been dating was getting her doctorate in American Lit (something Patrick was convinced would leave her in debt and jobless), and she had raved about the wide variety of genres available, as well as the good mix of literature and popular novels. It was as good a place as any to start.

And really, Patrick thought as he stepped onto the subway platform, it wasn't like he could make things _worse_.

The storefront was small, barely distinguishable from the rest of the buildings on the block. But the name was right, and it sold original editions, so Patrick figured he was in the correct place. He opened the door and walked inside.

Books were stacked everywhere, floor to ceiling. Shelves were stuffed to the brim, and it appeared that most of the merchandise was scattered around on tables than lined up properly. It looked...the best way Patrick could think to describe it was "lived-in." It looked inviting, like the books were just _begging_ customers to pick them up and read them. Patrick smiled to himself. He had a feeling that it was the sort of bookstore Robin would love.

"Can I help you?"

Patrick pulled himself from his musings and turned to look at the man who had spoken. The man appeared to be in his late-20s, of Asian descent, and generally looked like he would rather be doing anything other than selling books.

"Um...yeah," Patrick said slowly. He wasn't sure how much help this man would be. "I'm looking for a book."

"Well, you've certainly narrowed it down."

Patrick narrowed his eyes. This was _not_ getting off to a good start. "Look, give me a break, okay?" Patrick stood, hands on his hips, preparing to explain himself. "I need to find something. An apology gift."

"For a woman?"

"Yes."

"What'd you do?"

"Something I need to apologize for, obviously!" Patrick forced himself to take several deep breaths. "I don't know exactly what I'm looking for here, or even what she would like. So can you tell me what you have in stock?"

The man rolled his eyes. "We have books."

"_Look_," Patrick growled. "Would you just--"

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance?"

Both men turned towards the sound of the third voice. Patrick relaxed slightly when he saw the sales clerk he had been arguing with shrink slightly under the new man's gaze. Hopefully, this new person was the manager, and someone who might be able to help Patrick.

"That depends," Patrick replied. "Do you have a few minutes to help me figure out what I want to buy?"

The man smiled. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the other clerk. "Go manage the counter for a while, Hiroshi. I'll help this young man."

The sales clerk -- Hiroshi -- frowned ,but bowed his head slightly and walked away from them. The other man turned to Patrick, holding an arm out in front of them. "Now, why don't you tell me what it is that you're searching for."

Walking though the stacks, Patrick sighed. "That's the thing. I don't know, exactly." Running his finger across the spine of a first edition Dickens (Patrick did not even want to _contemplate_ what that would cost), he told the man his story in the barest terms. "I was interested in this woman, and we both did some things to screw up, but I did something that I recently found out, because of her history, was much worse. So now, I'm looking for something I can give her as an apology of sorts, so that we can get passed this whole thing."

The man stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. Apologies to women usually run along the lines of flowers and chocolates. Or so I'm told."

"You've never had to apologize for screwing up?"

"Apologies were never the problem between us," the man replied ambiguously. With a wave, he continued speaking. "Old news, old news. Now, why are you purchasing a book for this young woman, instead of flowers?"

Patrick paused and looked at the man. He was older, perhaps in his sixties, and had his fading blond hair tied back in a tail. Deep wrinkles lined his mouth, like he had spent too much time frowning in his youth. Patrick couldn't quite place his accent, but figured the man to be a European import of some sort. Altogether, he was an unlikely candidate for someone Patrick would pour his heart out to.

"You don't have to tell me your life story, my boy," the man laughed, seeing Patrick's expression. "I happen to own this little shop, so if you tell me what this woman is like, I'm quite confident I can match you up with the perfect book."

Nodding, Patrick felt a little better about speaking. "She's...absolutely nothing like me. She's brilliant, which I suppose _is_ like me, but she's modest. She's also stubborn and pushy, but I've never met anyone so devoted to the people she cares about. Which seems to be everybody but me, these days." Patrick huffed out a breath. "She's beautiful, but she doesn't seem to know it. Or she just doesn't care that much."

The bookshop's owner got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment, which Patrick noticed. "She sounds very much like a woman I once knew, a very long time ago."

Patrick shrugged the comment off; he supposed the older man was referring to the woman he had never apologized to. "So? Any thoughts?"

The man peered intensely at Patrick. "This woman, is she very dedicated to her work?"

"Yes." Patrick found himself smiling as he thought of how Robin threw herself into every case she worked on. "She's a doctor."

"Hm," the man murmured. "Tell me, has she lived in New York City for very long, or is she a recent transplant?"

Patrick shrugged. "Actually, she's not from here. Neither of us are. I used to live in Manhattan, until she asked me to consult on a case in her hometown."

"Interesting," the man smiled. "And you followed her away? I wonder," he said, "What sort of woman could possibly be so interesting as to lure someone away from this magnificent city?"

Patrick had to laugh. "Well, Robin manages to make her own excitement." Patrick turned to look at a row of books, and so did not see the brief look of interest that painted the other man's face.

"Robin? Hm," the man smiled slightly. "I knew a girl by that name a very long time ago. Perchance, is her last name...Devane?"

"No, Scorpio."

The man allowed himself a moment's giddy delight before schooling his features. He needn't have worried, however, as Patrick was more interested in browsing the books than in the old man's walk down memory lane. Patrick picked up a limited edition collection of Agatha Christie stories, never knowing that he had just sealed Robin's fate. He turned the book over in his hand, and wondered if Robin liked mysteries.

"If I may ask," the man smiled innocuously, "Where it is you and your young lady are from?"

Patrick paid no heed to the conversation he was having with the friendly, if nosy, bookshop owner. Putting the Christie back, he replied, "Port Charles." He turned back around to face the older man. "So, do you think you can help me?"

The man had to turn away, lest Patrick see his positively gleeful expression. It would seem he had found the perfect way to greet the good Dr. Scorpio. "You know," he said finally, walking towards a back storeroom, "I do believe I have just the book."

The man entered the storeroom, a staff-only area, and opened the safe that was embedded into the wall. He had been saving this for a special occasion, but the man felt that a more perfect opportunity was not likely to present itself. Opening the safe, the man took out a book, hardcover and in pristine condition. It was the first in it's line ever published, and it held a special place in the man's heart. Pulling out a pen, the man wrote a note inside the front cover. He blew on the ink, setting it. Novel in hand, the man walked back out to a waiting Patrick.

"You were on the right track, I believe, with the mystery you were looking at," the man began. "Your Robin brings to mind someone who is intelligent and serious, but with a burning fire inside of her." The man smiled and presented Patrick with the book he was holding. "Intrigue, my young friend. Intrigue and adventure allow her to test her mind as she relaxes, while still removing her from the daily toil of her life. Let her mind and spirit soar."

Patrick took the book and frowned. "This looks brand new."

"Ah, but it is not. That novel is, in fact, the first copy ever published of _The Alpine Express,_ signed by the author. I must admit, I had wanted to keep it for my own private collection, but I feel your need to be greater."

Patrick turned the book over, examining it. It was in very good condition, and he had to admit that the man's assessment of Robin's personality _did_ make him think that she would enjoy these sorts of novels. Satisfied, Patrick smiled. "I think this will be perfect." Patrick walked over to the cash register, where Hiroshi was sullenly going over a spreadsheet. He placed the book on the counter and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

"Hiroshi," the shop owner said, smiling slightly, "Give the man our special discount. I do believe we'll be seeing you again, Mr...?"

"Drake," Patrick answered, not looking up as he signed the receipt. "Dr. Patrick Drake."

"Dr. Drake," the man chuckled. "Thank you for your business. I think your young lady will be...most surprised by your thoughtfulness."

Patrick smiled and walked out of the store. Hiroshi and the owner watched through the window as he walked down the street. As soon as he was out of sight, Hiroshi turned to the other man, his back suddenly ramrod straight and all pretense of boredom gone. "Sir? May I ask what that was all about?"

"Ready a strike team, Takada. It seems that we'll be moving into Port Charles ahead of schedule. Prepare for the extraction of Robin Scorpio."

"Sir!" Hiroshi nodded sharply. "What about that man, Drake?"

The other man shrugged indifferently. "If you find that he becomes a problem, eliminate him."

Nodding again, Hiroshi Takada, a field ops leader for the DVX, left the storefront and entered the back room to begin making the necessary arrangements. The other man remained in the front, staring wistfully out the window in the direction Patrick had left. From his pocket, the man produced a photograph of a young woman. Her eyes were as haunted as they had been during the last photo he had seen of her, so many years ago when she was a child. Robin Scorpio and everything else were within his grasp now. "Soon," he said to the picture. "You will help me to change the world. Just like your mother did." It had been so long since he was in Port Charles.

Cesar Faison couldn't wait to say hello to his old friends.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Robin hoped that time and distance had cooled Patrick down.

Mercifully, Robin had managed to prevent Nikolas and Lucky from inciting a riot on her behalf, and the rest of the Haunted Star opening had gone without incident. Robin, Sam, and Liz had gotten involved in an in-depth about soap operas, of all things. As it turned out, all three women were huge fans of _The Sun Always Rises_, and had spent nearly an hour discussing their favorite characters, villains, and couples. Robin was pleasantly surprised that Sam also wanted Ricardo and Amanda to break up (_"Some people just do _not _have chemistry!" Sam had insisted between sips of champagne_); all three were rooting for the two young doctors, Andrew and Summer, to get together. Sam and Liz had exchanged knowing looks, which Robin had studiously ignored. She was _not_ sublimating her desire for Patrick through soap operas!

The rest of the weekend had passed uneventfully. Robin had caught up on some lab work, not thought about Patrick Drake, gone shopping with Maxie and Georgie, not thought about Patrick Drake, had another surprising (but not unpleasant) run-in with Sam at Kelly's, and not thought about Patrick Drake.

She wasn't even fooling herself.

It was easy to pretend that the issue of Patrick wasn't weighing heavily on her mind; when she had gone to GH on Sunday, the OR receptionist had told her that the younger Dr. Drake had taken the weekend off to visit Manhattan. Robin tried not to think about what he was doing there because, as she kept learning, that way lay madness. It didn't make sense to her well-ordered and logical mind to continue having feelings for someone who had proven time and time again that he could be very immature and nasty. It didn't make sense that someone could be such a contradiction of traits; Patrick had shown himself to be a selfish and petty man, but he had also shown a tremendous capacity for compassion and gentleness. It didn't make sense, and that was what made Robin's head spin.

Logic had failed her in this instance, and Patrick Drake had wormed his way into her emotions. It was really, _really_ the last thing she needed.

Determined to continue _not_ thinking about him, Robin saw her plans go to hell the moment she stepped off the elevator at the fourth floor of GH. There, at the nurse's station, was Patrick Drake, looking very much like he was waiting for someone, and holding a wrapped box in his hand.

"Patrick," Robin greeted coolly. She walked around the desk to check her consultation schedule for the day, ignoring Patrick.

Patrick, however, did not want to be ignored. "Good morning, Robin," he said, smiling slightly. "Listen, do you have a few minutes? I need to talk to you about something."

"Is it a patient?" Robin still did not look up from her charts.

Sighing, Patrick reached out and removed the schedule from Robin's hands. Squawking indignantly, Robin whirled around to face him. "_What_ is your problem?"

"Look," Patrick sighed. "We can do this out here, or we can do this in private. It's your choice."

Robin was seething. How _dare_ he still want to talk when she was working so hard at ignoring him! "Fine!" She crossed her arms in front of her chest and cocked an eyebrow. "Say whatever it is that you want to."

Patrick smirked. "Okay. Just remember, it was _you_ who wanted to have this out in public." He handed her the wrapped box. "I'm sorry."

Robin blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Yes."

"No, I mean..." She shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. "What I mean is, you're apologizing?" Robin frowned, unsure of what to expect.

Running a hand through his hair, Patrick ducked his head so he could speak more quietly to Robin. "Yeah. Look, I acted like an ass the other night at Jake's."

"Yes. And?"

"And you were right. By the way, that's the only time you're getting that out of me, so savor it." Patrick smiled and tried to lighten the mood, but he saw that Robin was having none of it. Alright, he thought, she was going to make him work for this. Fine. "I was an ass," he repeated, "and I should never have made you apologize in front of Carly like that. I should have kept our problems between us. You were right about that."

Robin snorted. "Wow, did you hurt yourself saying that? Admitting I was right must've at least pulled a muscle."

"_Anyway_," Patrick continued as though she hadn't interrupted him, "I was hurt, and I lashed out. I wanted you to hurt too, which, I admit, was not the most mature response."

"No kidding."

Patrick took a very deep, cleansing breath. "Luke told me everything," he said, trying very hard to speak as though she hadn't interrupted him. "I swear, if I had known the whole truth about what happened between you and Carly, I would never have used her to get a reaction out of you."

"If you had known the whole truth about me and Carly, you would have thought, 'Chick fight!', popped open a beer, and sat back to watch."

"Would you--_God_!" Patrick shouted, startling several nearby nurses and patients. Quickly lowering his voice, Patrick growled out, "I am trying to be nice here, but you are driving me _insane_!"

Robin dropped her arms to her sides and clenched her fists. "You were well on your way there without any help from me!"

"Look, I'm _trying _here, okay! I'm not very good at this." Patrick hissed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

"What do you want, a medal?" Robin refused to be impressed, no matter how hard he was trying. "Welcome to the world! People screw up, they apologize, and then they _move on_!"

"Well, I don't _want to_!"

Robin forced herself to remain indifferent. It wasn't coming out the way she had hoped (not that she had imagined Patrick apologizing to her), but somehow, in some twisted way, Robin couldn't bring herself to expect them to come to peace any differently. This was just how they were. The real question Robin needed to answer was whether this was something she would accept as part of her life.

"Robin, I..." Patrick stopped and gripped the side of the desk; he needed to gather his thoughts and do this the right way. Finally, he settled on being as straightforward as possible; brutal honestly was always how he and Robin had communicated, anyway. "Here."

"What?" She pulled herself from her thoughts.

"I said, here." Patrick held out the package to Robin. "It's...it's an apology. I'm not good at this, Robin. I don't know how to fix things, which, for a surgeon, is not a comforting place to be." He took in a deep breath and steadied himself, staring deeply into Robin's eyes. He needed her to see that he was sincere. "I didn't know how to make you understand, so I thought..."

Tentatively, Robin took the box from Patrick's hands. "I'm surprised you didn't go with some ostentatious display of flowers, or enough chocolate to send me into a diabetic coma." She looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah, well."

Patrick dropped his head to his chest, and Robin could swear she saw a flash of...embarrassment? It couldn't be...

"On some very good advice, I wanted to get you something that I thought suited your personality better. Something that was more _you_." Patrick looked back up and smiled at Robin. "Open it?"

Robin was desperately holding onto her last shed of resistance. Patrick had bought her a gift? And he had bought her something that reminded him of her? Well damn it all, how was she supposed to refuse him after _that_? With a small smile, Robin began unwrapping the paper. Pulling the lid off the box, she saw a hard-backed book resting in some tissue paper. She peeled back the tissue...

And felt her knees give way beneath her.

"Robin?" Patrick was at her side in an instant, holding her around the waist, taking the book from her hands. "Robin, what is it?"

Robin couldn't hear him, couldn't see him; she could barely breath. All she saw was the cover of the book, and all she heard was a conversation with her mother, only a few years ago, when Anna Devane had finally made her way to Paris to be with her only daughter.

_"I need to tell you everything, Luv... You need to understand, I was a different person, then... He threatened to kill your father... He wrote everything down... To the whole world, she was an impossible ideal of a woman, but to _him_, she was me. It was all real... I never meant to let him get near you... PK Sinclair was Cesar Faison..."_

Her mother's words played over and over in Robin's head. She couldn't make them shut off. She was dimly aware of Patrick calling her name, of strong arms trying to pull her away from the desk and over to the couches, of the book moving farther away from her.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" Robin choked out, gripping the nurse's station desk and pulling away from Patrick. "Why would you give me that?"

Patrick's face fell. What had he done? "Robin?" he asked softly. "I...I don't know what's happening right now."

"There's a first," Robin joked weakly, trying to regain her physical and mental balance. It wasn't coming back.

"Robin?" Patrick asked again, more insistently. "I just...I thought you'd like adventure novels. As an escape, you know? The owner of the shop said it was a first edition, signed and everything...Robin, tell me what I just did..."

Robin shook her head violently, trying to drown out Patrick's words. She needed him to stop talking about the book. Too many memories came rushing back all at once, memories of "games" she had played with her parents as a child. The memories of running, and kidnappings, and shootings and murders; memories of loneliness and crying and waiting to find out if her parents were ever coming home. She flashed back, for just a moment, to the memorial service for her parents when Faison -- when she _thought_ Faison -- had killed them. It didn't really matter in the end, because she remembered grieving; she remembered fifteen years of mourningThe WSB might have kept her parents from her, but Cesar Faison was the one who took them away. Of all the things she never wanted to explain to Patrick..._God_.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to react like that." Robin straightened up and forced herself to look at the book, to look at the artistic rendering of the woman her mother had been so many years ago. "I shouldn't have accused you like that."

Patrick frowned, still unsure of what was happening. "Well, whatever this book means to you, it has to be pretty bad. Let's just forget about that last accusation." He gave Robin a small smile, trying to get her back to normal.

Robin forced herself to return the smile, no matter how shaky it was. "That book...You're right. I have some bad memories associated with it. No," she replied off his questioning look, "I don't want to talk about it. But," she took a deep breath. "Thank you for the gesture."

"This wasn't at all how I had planned things."

"I know," Robin said gently. And she _did_ know. How was Patrick to know what a PK Sinclair book meant to her? An entire world existed where nothing described in those books ever really happened. In the back of her mind, Robin noticed that this was a stark reminder of how Patrick could never really be a part of her world. All the things he didn't know...

But he was trying to be there for her, to be _with_ her. She saw that now, and however misguided his attempt had been, the effort was there, and it touched Robin. Please, let something good come out of all this, she thought. Robin moved the book to the shelf underneath the desk; out of sight, out of mind. Robin placed her hand on Patrick's arm and, standing on her toes, placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she smiled genuinely.

Patrick still looked horribly confused, and more than a little worried, but a completely involuntary smile brushed his face at the touch of her lips to his skin. "So..." he said.

"So," Robin returned.

"I'd like to try this again. Maybe get through an actual date without acting like a couple of contract players on _The Sun Always Sets_."

"_Rises,_" Robin corrected, a full smile blossoming on her still ashen face.

"God, you're insufferable!" Patrick laughed.

"And yet, here you are, suffering," she teased.

Patrick's smile gentled, and a soft look filled his eyes. "Yeah. Here I am." He could get used to this feeling.

"So," Robin said. "I'll see you later?"

"Yeah," Patrick grinned. "Later. We'll work something out?"

Robin nodded, grabbed her patient files, and turned to walk away. She paused around the corner and waited, watching Patrick stand at the Nurse's Station with what she could only describe as a goofy smile on his face. Finally, he shook himself out of his stupor, picked up his own files, and walked in the opposite direction Robin had gone. As soon as he was around the corner, Robin ran back to the desk and grabbed the book.

_The Alpine Express_. One of the cases that happened before Anna had married Robert, Robin thought. With shaky fingers, she opened the book, and read the note from the author. PK Sinclair. Cesar Faison. He must have signed this back when it was released. But she read the note, and her heart stopped.

_Here's to seeing old friends again, PK Sinclair._

Robin stared at the note. There was no way...it was just a coincidence...there was just _no way_...

Cesar Faison was dead.

There was just no way.

* * *

"These formulas still aren't translating into anything viable ." The man was wearing a lab coat and standing over an industrial computer, looking at numbers that still didn't make any sense. 

"What about the absorption rates?" A second voice, this time belonging to a woman. She was also in a lab coat, but she was looking through a microscope at tissue samples. Damn, she thought, not enough effect in the nerve cells.

"We need a better way to intercept internal processing of audiovisual input. What good is a drug that influences behavior if you can't control the initial storage of the information?"

The woman sighed and stretched the kinks out of her back, the pops echoing loudly in the laboratory. "That virus was a piss-poor delivery system, I'll tell you that much."

The man snorted. "Such language from a woman like you. Did they teach you to speak like that at Columbia?"

The woman made a rude gesture with her middle finger, then sighed again. "What was Faison thinking, outsourcing development of the weapon to Crylium?"

Shrugging, the man walked away from the computer. "I don't know. Temporary insanity?" They both laughed at the joke. "Seriously," he said. "Whatever happened to the best and the brightest?"

"If you had been at that last briefing, you'd know that Faison is launching an operation to get us exactly that."

"I was too busy dealing with a patient who was crashing in the infirmary. Also because of those idiots at Crylium. So," the man asked, interested. "Who's Faison bringing us to finish this mess? I mean, the sooner we get these numbers right, the sooner his grand vision comes true."

"Last I heard, there's an ops team getting into position to bring back Robin Scorpio."

"That doctor from the Sorbonne?"

"Yeah."

The man nodded in appreciation. "She's pretty smart. And hot." He chuckled lecherously. "You think she'd...?"

The woman snorted. "Last I heard, she's HIV-positive. So I'm thinking, _no_."

"Pity," the man sighed. He turned back to his computer. "Well, as long as she solves this."

The woman turned away from her research partner, returning to her own work. "She'd better. Or else Faison'll have no reason not to kill her."

"Hm. That'd be a shame."

"Yeah. A shame."


	7. Chapter 6

I'm really nervous about this chapter. However, in it's defense: if we got rid if Sonny, Jason, Carly, Emily, Michael, and Diego, we'd have _six_ contract slots open; seven if you count dead!Jesse. Think about it: _seven_ main roles that can be filled by characters who tie in to the Scorpio/Drake/Spencer/Jones/Quartermaine/Cassadine families. Anyway, that's how I justify the introduction of a new character when there are already so many on the GH canvas.

Also: as Patrick's creation proves, you _can_, in fact, SORAS someone who never actually existed onscreen before.

**Chapter 6**

Robin had to admit, Patrick was damn good at distracting her. She had almost been able to put the book out of her mind.

They had met up when their shifts ended and discussed possible places to go out to dinner. Patrick had been adamant that they find someplace that Robin had no ties to, and had finally settled on a new trattoria on Maple and Third. Robin chuckled at the memory of what a trial finding a restaurant had been.

_"Well, I definitely think that Metro Court is out," Patrick had smiled. "As is Jake's."_

_"I didn't like Jake's even before you and I were there. Now I don't like it even more."_

_"Hm. Okay, I've heard about a restaurant called The Outback. The food's supposed to be good."_

_"My family used to own that restaurant. If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon not spend any more time there than I already did when I was younger."_

_"Right, that's fair. There's always that French place, Cafe Matisse."_

_"Ooh! I love that place! Nikolas and I used to--"_

_"Never mind."_

_"What? Why?"_

_"Do you have a connection to _every _place in Port Charles?"_

Robin suspected that if she and Patrick were going to make a serious try of things, they would both have to get over her ties to so many parts of the city. They would quickly run out of places to go on dates, otherwise. Robin viciously suppressed the part of her that said that she and Patrick could always _stay in_... No. That was asking for too much, too soon. But then, Patrick had been very firm last night. Robin had nearly spit out her wine when he said he wanted to see where things went between them without outside interference. He had obviously seen her wide-eyed look of shock, because he had simply smirked and told her his position on things.

_"I don't do anything halfway, Robin. Not surgery, not sex," he had raised an eyebrow at her slight blush, "And not relationships. When I want something, I go all in. And it seems, Dr. Scorpio, that I want you." Patrick took a sip of his wine and looked at Robin, his eyes burning from the candlelight, and perhaps something else. "Think you can handle that?"_

Even as she thought back on it, Robin could not contain the giddy smile that crossed her face. She knew he was baiting her, knew that his comment was meant to get her riled up. But if there was one thing a Scorpio never did, it was refuse to meet a challenge, and if there was one thing a Devane never did, it was surrender. And Robin knew from experience that when a Scorpio or a Devane used their powers for good and not evil, there wasn't a force in the universe could stop them from getting what they wanted.

Smiling to herself, Robin sat in her lab and examined the results of her patient's latest MRI.

Patrick was good. She had almost forgotten about the book.

* * *

Patrick sauntered up to the Nurse's Station, smirk firmly in place. He was the master surgeon of General Hospital, with a still-perfect record! He grinned to himself as he put the patient file from his most recent success on the desk. Another surgery that a lesser doctor could not have performed with such accuracy; despite the size of the tumor, Patrick knew that Mr. Haloran would retain his facial nerve function after the VP shunt insertion. Patrick hopped behind the desk and grabbed a pen, making a few post-op notes in the chart. Between last night and this morning, Patrick was in a damn good mood.

If he wasn't the confident, self-assured man that he was, Patrick would have laughed at how invested he was in his relationship with Robin. He smiled wider. He almost had her convinced that they _were_ in a relationship; their total dysfunction proved it. Robin hadn't been thrilled with his reasoning, but her logical mind couldn't deny that, in spite of everything they'd put each other through (even discounting the not-a-date and the whole blackmailing thing), they were still committed to each other. Robin had grumbled that it often felt more like they were _stuck_ with each other, but that really just proved Patrick's point. Patrick had sought out chance after chance, and no matter how thoroughly pissed at him she had been, Robin had granted him chance after chance. So, he had reasoned, a relationship was really the only thing to call their antics.

Patrick's smile grew a little softer as he wrote post-op instructions in the Haloran chart. While he may have given the impression that he was a womanizer (and Patrick refused to apologize for enjoying hospital sex), he wasn't the commitment-phobe Robin seemed afraid he was. The simple truth was, no woman had held his attention for as long as Robin in a very long time; not since medical school, when he and the same woman had gravitated back and forth between each other for nearly his final two years. He seemed to always be attracted to the same things in woman: beauty, brilliance, pushiness, and a strong career drive. God, he thought, Columbia felt like such a long time ago already. After that had ended, there were just no women who captivated him for long enough on a truly fundamental level.

Until Robin.

"Excuse me."

Patrick looked up upon hearing the voice. A young man stood on the other side of the desk, a backpack strung over his shoulders and his hands in his pockets. Looking around for a nurse, Patrick sighed when he saw none available. It looked like he would have to play nice with the new patient.

"Can I help you?" Patrick asked.

The young man looked around the hospital curiously. "I'm looking for Robin Scorpio. I was told that she works here."

Patrick relaxed. Someone looking for a consult with Robin, perhaps? Reaching for a piece of scratch paper, Patrick scribbled down the GH switchboard phone number. "Here's the main line. Call them and ask to speak to the Neuro-Research Labs. You can schedule a consultation with Dr. Scorpio through them."

The young man blinked and looked at the paper. "Um, no. I'm not here as a patient. I want to speak to Dr. Scorpio about something else."

Patrick frowned. "Look, kid. If you aren't a patient then you don't need to speak to Dr. Scorpio."

"Yeah...except, no. Look, will you just tell Robin that she has a visitor?"

"No, you look," Patrick grumbled. This kid was starting to grate on his nerves. "Are you a patient?"

"No."

"Are you a family member of a patient?"

"Gee, you're slow. No."

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Patrick continued. "I already know you're not Robin's family."

The man smirked, and Patrick sincerely hoped he was not that annoying when he did the same thing.

"I might just be family," the man said.

"You might be, except I already know who Robin's family are, and no one's ever mentioned a bratty teenage boy!"

That caused the young man to laugh. "Man, I never figured a Scorpio to go for the guard-dog types."

"_Excuse _me?"

"Excuse me."

Both men silenced and turned to face the woman to whom the voice belonged. Robin Scorpio frowned and approached cautiously, unsure of what she was interrupting.

"I'm sorry for intruding," she said. "I just need to grab the Haloran file from you, Patrick."

Patrick and Robin smiled at each other, forgetting for a moment that they were in the middle of the hospital and that there was a third person watching them. They had not seen each other yet that day, and each felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through their body as they recalled, simultaneously, it seemed, the decision reached the previous night. Robin flushed slightly as she remembered what had happened _after_ the date, when they had spent a good thirty minutes confirming, in no uncertain terms, that they _were_ together. She sincerely hoped that she wouldn't act like a lovesick schoolgirl every time she saw Patrick; she was a grown woman, a _doctor_, for God's sake!

"Ahem." The young man coughed and waved a hand in front of them, breaking the connection between Robin and Patrick. He laughed the guilty expression on Robin's face and the grumpy expression on Patrick's. "Man, Robin. You look just like your pictures."

Robin frowned, all traces of embarrassment instantly lost. "I'm sorry? Do we know each other?"

"_Thank_ you," Patrick said, breathing a sigh of relief. "This kid isn't a patient, or a family member, and I'm pretty sure you've mentioned all your family. He won't leave without speaking to you." Off Robin's confused look, Patrick smiled. Maybe now the kid would leave him in peace, and he could find time for...a _break_ with Robin.

The other man just smirked again, much to Patrick's everlasting chagrin. "Nah, technically, we don't know each other. I mean, the last time you saw me I was just a fetus."

"A...what?" Robin asked.

Sticking out a hand, the boy introduced himself. "I'm Bobby. Bobby Donoley."

Patrick watched the name fail to resonate with Robin. Then, suddenly, her eyes lit up.

"_Donoley_?" she grinned.

Bobby smiled, genuine. "Yeah. I'm Sean and Tiffany's kid."

Robin squealed and raced around the Nurse's Station desk. Pushing his outstretched hand aside, Robin pulled Bobby into a tight hug. Patrick watched, confused and somewhat dismayed, as she greeted a total stranger like a long-lost relative. It certainly didn't help matters when Bobby peered over Robin's shoulder and smirked at Patrick. _Told ya_, he mouthed silently.

While Patrick fumed silently, Robin pulled back from the embrace and smiled at Bobby. "Oh, my God, look at you! You look just like your dad, and...oh! You have your mom's eyes!"

Bobby laughed. "Yeah, I've been hearing that my whole life. Mostly from my mom. 'Oh, you are just the spittin' image of your father!'" he mimicked.

Robin laughed as well, leaving Patrick feeling more and more confused. "Hey, wait..." Robin said suddenly. "'Bobby?'"

"Well, Robert, technically."

Robin pursed her lips. "They named you after my father?"

Bobby shrugged, a half-smile playing across his face. "Yeah. I mean, what'd ya think, that they would name me after Luke?"

She couldn't deny the point. "So, are you here visiting? Did your parents come, too?"

Without warning, Bobby's face fell, and his dark expression reminded Robin all too well of the way Sean had looked whenever there was trouble. "Bobby?" Robin asked tentatively.

"Is there someplace we could talk?" he asked.

Frowning, Robin motioned towards the couches in the corner of the lobby. Leaving Patrick standing confused at the desk, they moved to sit down. Bobby dropped his backpack to the floor and sighed, not meeting Robin's inquiring gaze. "Tell me what's wrong," she said gently.

Bobby took a deep breath before he spoke. "I think something happened to my parents."

It was strange, Robin mused dimly, how profound statements always came wrapped in simple words. "What do you mean, 'something happened?'"

"Look, you know the business my dad's in. It took him a while to recover from being shot, but when he did, the Bureau pulled him back in. I'm pretty sure he's one of the higher-ups, because he's never away for more than a week or so at a time. My mom ran a local television station, then managed to buy one of the local newspapers. Then she bought a radio station, and now she runs one of the biggest media outlets in the Northeast."

Robin understood everything Bobby was not saying; she had grown up with it, too. "You think they were both targets for something."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah." Then he frowned. "You're taking this a lot better than I thought you would. I figured I'd hafta convince you that something bad happened."

Robin didn't respond to that, refusing to give voice to the vague paranoia that had plagued her since the epidemic. "Tell me what happened. Why would you come here looking for help?"

"Three weeks ago, my mom and dad left for a business trip to London; Mom had some big media conference, and Dad was meeting with some contacts."

"And you know this because--"

"Don't ask. Anyway, they were only supposed to be gone eight days. Then, last week, I got a phone call from Dad. He just said, 'I ran into an old friend,' and hung up. He didn't sound right, Robin. He didn't sound like my dad." All pretenses of arrogance and cockiness had dropped from his demeanor, and he looked exactly like the scared eighteen-year-old he really was.

Robin wasn't focused on his appearance, however. Bobby's words kept repeating in her head. _"I ran into an old friend, I ran into an old friend...Here's to seeing old friends...old friends...old friends..." _It had to be a coincidence, it just had to be! There was no way that what Bobby was suggesting happened had anything to do with what she was thinking. If it did, then it meant...

_Oh, God._

"Robin?" Bobby looked nervous when Robin's face paled. "Robin? I just...I didn't know who else would believe me. You know what that world is like, you _know_ how things work there. Something's--"

"Why did you come here?"

"Huh?"

"Bobby," Robin said urgently. "Why would you come to me with this? Why not the Bureau?

"Because," Bobby said softly. "The one thing my dad always told me was that if something ever happened, to contact you. He said that Robert and Anna's daughter would be the only person in the world I would know I could trust." He looked pleadingly at her. "Robin, they're never just _gone_ like this. Something bad's happened."

Robin dropped her head, as all of the seemingly random events of the last few months spiraled through her mind. A mysterious, man-made virus that _Luke Spencer, _of all people, brings back, that affects _only_ Port Charles, but not the surrounding towns; her father suddenly rises from the dead and is on the trail of that _exact virus_; there were so many things he didn't say, _couldn't_ say, about Crylium Industries; the book, the inscription, now Sean and Tiffany disappearing...

To anybody else, it would have remained a sequence of random events. In any other world, coincidences would have remained coincidences. But it all made the kind of sense that Robin hadn't seen since she was a child, when her parents had taught her the true way of things. Only one agency in the world would develop a manmade encephalitis outbreak to sell for profit, and only one man would make sure everything went down in Port Charles. If the DVX was really launching a new operation, then there was only one person who could be at the helm.

Standing up, Robin motioned for Bobby to come back to the Nurse's Station desk with her. She ignored the questioning look Patrick was giving her, instead grabbing Liz, who had wandered by.

"Liz," Robin said, trying to maintain a very tight control over her tone. "I need you to get Lucky, Luke, and Lulu, and come over to my apartment later. Something...Something's happened, and I need to talk to all of you."

Liz looked as confused as Patrick and Bobby. "Oh...okay, sure. But Robin, what's this about? I mean, you know Luke."

"Tell him that I asked him to come. Tell him I wouldn't say it was important unless it was. He'll come."

Liz nodded, still uncertain, but she reached for her cell phone and dialed Lucky's number.

Robin turned back to Bobby. "I'll get my family together. Can you hang out here until we're ready to leave?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Robin," he said softly. "What's going on?"

"You were right, Bobby," Robin whispered. "Something bad."

Patrick was fuming. "Robin, what the hell--"

"You should come, too." Robin said, looking up at Patrick. She knew she must look like a wreck, because Patrick immediately backed off and softened his voice.

"Robin, what--?"

"I'll explain everything later," she promised. "I just...I need to ask you a question: do you remember anything about the man who sold you that book you gave me?"

Patrick and Bobby exchanged confused looks. "Just that he was older, maybe sixty-ish. He had long hair, way to long for someone his age. And he had a funny accent. European, or something."

Robin's face paled, but she took a deep breath to steady her shaking body. "Okay. You definitely need to come tonight, too." Catching Patrick's eye, she nodded her head solemnly, silently begging him not to question her, and to just accept that her word that something truly _bad_ was happening. "I need to tell you everything."

Robin closed her eyes and prayed that whatever came next did not destroy her world again.

Cesar Faison was alive.

And he had his eye on Port Charles.


	8. Chapter 7 Part 1

Erm...oops? Well, if it makes you guys feel any better, I haven't been updating at the Scrubs board, either. Life got a bit away from me, with major job burn-out, moving across the country, and starting school full-time again, all happening within a two-month period of each other. Suffice it to say, I needed things to calm down a bit before I could even _think _about fanfic again. But now I'm all settled, and it's time to update again. Yay!

So, just to recap: this takes place way back in March, within a few days of the "bet" fiasco and the Haunted Star opening. Ah, the days of yore...

**Chapter 7 - Part 1**

Patrick arrived early.

When Robin opened the door to her apartment, it was not lost on either of them that the last time they had been in their respective positions, things had gone very bad very quickly. Steeling herself against what she knew would be the first of many body blows that night, Robin stood aside and motioned for Patrick to enter.

"Come in," she said, so quietly that Patrick wondered if he had imagined the words.

Her apartment looked only mildly different from the last time he was there. Patrick took note that the candles were back on their shelves, in what he assumed were their proper places, and the dining room table was now covered by an assortment of chips and veggies, not the nice China and wine he had seen last time. The overstuffed pillows had been relegated to the floor around the couch, causing Patrick to wonder about how many people Robin had called to this impromptu meeting.

A meeting he still knew nothing about.

Patrick took a seat on the couch, his eyes following Robin as she moved mechanically around her apartment, going through the motions of cleaning up.

"Can I get you anything?" Robin asked woodenly. "Something to drink?"

"You can sit for a second and talk to me," Patrick replied, reaching out to pull her down next to him. He sighed when he saw Robin's emotionless face. In the back of his mind, Patrick realized he didn't like not being able to read her. "You can tell me what's going on."

Robin stared straight ahead, avoiding Patrick's eyes. "Bobby went to check out of his hotel. I figure it's safer if he stays here with me. Uncle Mac and Felicia are rounding up Maxie and Georgie, and Liz and Lucky are getting Lulu and Luke. They should all be here soon."

"Right," Patrick said. "Except that wasn't what I was asking." Leaning over to try and look into Robin's eyes, Patrick said, "I mean, what prompted all this? What the hell is going on that has you looking like the world is going to end?"

"It is."

Patrick blinked. "What?"

Robin turned to face Patrick, allowing him to see just how badly she was burning inside. "The world is going to end. The world that I know, anyway." Robin sighed and slumped back against the couch. "This is _so_ not what you signed on for."

Her vague non-answers were starting to wear thin on Patrick. "You know, why don't you just _tell_ me what you think I didn't 'sign on for,' and then _I'll_ tell you whether or not I think you're full of it."

"Excuse me?" Robin bolted upright, shocked at his words.

The despairing attitude that was hanging in the air around Robin finally got to Patrick. He pushed himself up off the couch, walked to the other side of the coffee table, and began pacing with his hands on his hips. "You...you make these pronouncements, and I'm getting really tired of it!" Patrick continued pacing. "Who decided you get to run anybody's life? Who decided you get to run _my_ life?" He stopped pacing abruptly and faced Robin, who was sitting silently, watching him. "_I_ get to decide if whatever this big bad thing is is too much for me to handle. I mean, my God, Robin!" Patrick waved his hand, "You're acting like someone died!"

"Someone came back to _life_!"

Patrick stilled completely, his jaw dropping at Robin's words. "What? Is this about your dad?"

Robin stood up and glared at Patrick. "You want to know what's going on, you arrogant jerk? You think my attitude is bringing you down _now_?" Robin laughed caustically and crossed her arms across her chest. "Well, strap in, buddy. It's going to be one hell of a ride!"

The reality of the situation had pushed Robin far beyond panic. Her life had been complicated enough trying to figure out whatever was going on between her and Patrick; she had felt like _that_ mountain had finally been scaled, or at least tunneled through. Instead, she had been running on autopilot since that afternoon, allowing her body to go through the motions of treating patients while her mind had retraced everything that had happened, trying to come up with possible motives for Faison to come after Port Charles in this manner. It bothered Robin less than she thought it would that she hadn't devoted her whole attention to medicine that day; rather, she was comforted by the knowledge that she knew her craft so well. She had circled past panic, and now felt herself entering "eerily calm."

Unfortunately, that didn't take care of the immediate problem: telling Patrick Drake her story, and what he had inadvertently done to bring destruction into so many lives. Robin lowered herself back down onto the couch. Motioning for Patrick to join her, Robin took several deep breaths. This was not what she thought her and Patrick's first heavy conversation would be. Robin had hoped they'd at least get to have sex a few times before she had to resurrect her history for him. She didn't even know how to begin.

She finally decided the only thing she could do was just let him know who she was.

"The fastest way to disable an attacker is a hard, fast punch to the solar plexus, followed by a swift chop with the side of your hand just below the occipital ridge. You want them focused on their breathing so that you have a chance to make them black out. It gives you time to get away."

Patrick slowly sat down beside Robin. That was not at all what he had expected her to say.

"You'll always hear debate on the 'appropriate' way to take someone down, but that's always been a good standby." Robin's voice was devoid of any inflection.

"Robin, what--"

"I'm pretty practical. I know it looks cooler to whip out a revolver; you know, to see the cylinder rotate as you fire each bullet? But give me a good semiautomatic any day of the week. You get more rounds off and they come small enough for someone my size to use without feeling too many recoil effects."

"Robin, what the _hell_--"

"You wanted to know what was going on," Robin said, finally looking at Patrick.

"Yeah, but you're giving me a 'Ten Ways to Kill Someone' speech." Patrick's eyes narrowed.

Robin snorted. "Oh, I know more than ten ways to kill someone." She stood up and walked away, wrapping her arms around herself. The air in her apartment felt cold, even though she knew it was set for seventy degrees. Must be her, then.

"You used to accuse me of having no life, of being too afraid to live," she said softly, the weariness now back in her tone. "And you were partly right. _Now_ I don't live life the way you think it should be lived." She laughed hollowly. "The way most people think it should be lived. I got more _living_ done by the time I was sixteen than most people get in by sixty."

She couldn't look at him. She didn't want to see his face as she told him everything; she couldn't let him in that deeply. Patrick made her feel out of control in a way she hadn't felt since her childhood; too much was already happening now that was bringing her back to that place. No matter what they had agreed to, she stubbornly refused to let this last piece of herself go willingly. Or, at least, without a hell of a fight.

"I thought I was an orphan until I was seven," Robin continued. "I grew up in Italy, thinking the nice old lady who raised me was my grandmother and that my mother was just a family friend." She swallowed her tears at the memories and forced herself to continue. Patrick would need to know everything so that he could leave, guilt free. She really wouldn't blame him. "Then I got kidnapped, and deposited on my father's doorstep here, in Port Charles. Except, I didn't know he was my father. Finding _that_ out involved me running away and living in the GH linen closets, and then getting kidnapped because I was inadvertently involved in one of their cases. I got kidnapped a lot as a child, actually."

Patrick stood up, but didn't move towards Robin. "Fine, so you didn't have a normal childhood." Patrick rethought his words and tried again. "Actually, it sounds like you had a really weird childhood. But what I don't get is--"

"Patrick." Robin turned around. It wasn't any easier, really, to say all this and not look at him. After everything she'd put him through in the last week, she figured she owed him that much. "My parents were both WSB agents."

That caused Patrick's eyes to widen slightly. "As in the World Security Bureau, super-secret international spy agency?"

Robin nodded. "That's what I need you to understand. My parents made enemies, a lot of them. Some were worse than the others, and one of them..." She couldn't finish.

Patrick took a tentative step towards Robin. "One of them...?" he prodded gently.

Taking a shaky breath, Robin continued. "One of them was worse than all the others combined. He...he's what I see in my nightmares, Patrick. Real nightmares." There couldn't be anything but honesty between them, now. "Not my health or Stone, because those are still tied up with too many good things to be real nightmares. This guy, though," she lowered her eyes. "You'll hear a lot of people tonight refer to him, in various ways, as the devil incarnate." Robin brought her eyes back up to look into Patrick's. "And they're right."

Patrick placed his hands on his hips and huffed out a breath. "Robin," he said firmly. "I get that you've had a difficult life, I really do. I get that nothing about you is what it seems. And I'll never make cracks about you being boring again, because apparently, you could kill me and make it look like an accident. But I still don't understand--"

"It's _him_!" Robin cried, finally losing her grip on control. "That man, the one who destroyed my family, who killed my parents in every way that matters, who was _obsessed_ with my mother _and _with me--"

"_What_!"

"Yeah!" Robin hated herself for the tears streaming down her cheeks, hated that Faison could still make her feel like a little child. "So this is the big reveal! The man who I spent fifteen years thinking had murdered my parents not only survived _two_ fatal explosion, but is apparently gunning for Port Charles again! And guess who's caught in the middle?"

Patrick fell back to the couch, his wide eyes locked on Robin's tearful ones. Nothing she was saying was making any sort of sense. Things like this just didn't happen to people like her. Robin was just a _doctor_, for God's sake! How was she a part of international espionage?

"Because of who I am, Patrick," Robin said softly, answering the question she saw in his eyes. "Because of who I am, and where I come from. Who my parents are, who my family are. I'm a Scorpio and a Devane, and that might not mean a lot to you yet, but it means everything in this town. It means everything to him, and to me." She looked at him, laying herself bare. "There's more than HIV in my blood, Patrick, and it's going to set the world on fire."

Patrick couldn't respond to that, so he just sat silently, looking at Robin, until the others arrived.


	9. Chapter 7 Part 2

**Chapter 7 - Part 2**

As soon as Robin put forth the idea that the epidemic wasn't an accident, the room came alive.

"How is that even possible?"

"Did your father say something when he was here?"

"Has he contacted you _again_?"

"You mean it was manmade _and_ targeted?"

"Who would do something like that?"

"_Why_ would someone do something like that?"

Robin had simply buried her face in her hands and waited for the noise to die down before speaking again. "It wasn't any one thing," she finally said. "It was a lot of little things, and a good dose of Scorpio paranoia--"

"Always helpful," Luke interrupted.

"--that made me look at the pieces in a different way." Robin inhaled a shaky breath and looked around the room at her family, and Patrick, who still appeared terribly confused by everything. "I mean, think about it: Luke, of all people, brings this thing back. My father, of all people, rises from the dead and comes back to Port Charles. A Spencer is kidnapped and experimented on, a Jones is one of the fatalities--"

"What about Courtney?" Liz asked, trying to stave off her own panic at the thought of someone targeting her family.

Robin frowned. "Nikolas told me she wasn't even supposed to be in town. She might not have been a factor at all."

"Yeah," Lucky conceded, "But that still doesn't mean--"

"My parents are missing."

Everyone turned to look at Bobby Donoley, who had sat off to the side of the group, backwards on a pilfered dining room chair. He had been greeted with so much happiness and attention, before he had shrunk to the background of the discussion. Now he was speaking again, and his announcement was met with shock and outrage.

"_What_!"

"When?"

"Why didn't you say anything as soon as we got here?"

Bobby ignored them and looked at Robin. "That was what convinced you something was going on, wasn't it?" he asked, frowning thoughtfully. "You had your own suspicions before that, but when I told you my parents were overdue, you were convinced."

Lulu cut into the conversation. "What made you think that something happened to them?"

Bobby turned in surprise; he hadn't spoken to the youngest Spencer yet. "I knew my dad was meeting up with some contacts."

"How?" Lulu asked, frowning.

Bobby narrowed his eyes and glared at Lulu, willing her to shut up. "I'd rather not say how I got that information." He ignored her scoff, as well as the questioning looks of everyone else. Turning his attention back to Robin, Bobby asked the question that had been plaguing his mind since he had come to her. "What else made you suspect something?"

Robin didn't answer him. Instead, she got up and walked over to her day bag, the one she used to carry files, planners, and other large objects to and from the hospital. From it, she removed the book Patrick had given her.

Patrick frowned when he saw her come back with it. What was it about that book that had her so panicked? And why were several other people in the room suddenly looking terrified?

"I...received this yesterday. It was given innocuously, but someone meant for me to get it." Robin handed the book to Mac. "Look inside," she simply said.

Mac opened the book, and his face contorted into an expression of pure rage as he read the note. "'_Here's to seeing old friends again, PK Sinclair_'!" Mac jumped up from his spot on the couch. "Robin, who the hell would give you this?"

Bobby frowned. "That sounds almost exactly like what--"

"What you told me your father said," Robin finished, looking from him to her uncle Mac. "I know. That was what convinced me."

Luke snorted, but his eyes were darker than any Patrick had ever seen in a man before. "No such things as coincidences in this town," he murmured, unconsciously squeezing Lulu's shoulder.

"So, what do we make of this?" Felicia said nervously, taking Mac's hand. "Someone's trying to revive his glory days?"

Robin shook her head. "No." Turning to Patrick, she spoke to him for the first time since the others had arrived. "Tell them what you told me about the bookshop clerk."

More confused than ever, Patrick frowned at Robin, but did as she asked. "He was older, in his sixties, maybe, and he had longish graying blond hair."

Although Mac, Felicia, Luke, and Lucky all paled at the description, Robin urged him to continue. "And the rest?"

"He had an accent," Patrick said, looking around the room at the faces staring back at him. "European, but I don't know what country."

Patrick could not have prepared himself for the explosion that followed.

"_Sonofabitch!_" Luke shouted, jumping out of his chair.

"There's no _way_!" Mac bellowed. "I saw the boat explode!"

"It wouldn't be the first time he survived something like that, Uncle Mac," Robin said wearily.

"But still, Robin, honey," Felicia soothed, although her fearful eyes never left her girls, who were sitting on pillows on the floor and looking only slightly less confused that Patrick. "It's a long way from a description and a book to _that_."

"A book, a description, and someone handpicking that book for Patrick to give to me," Robin replied. She turned back to Patrick, who looked so completely out of his element that, on any other day, Robin would have laughed at the sight. The ever-confident, always-in-control neurosurgeon Patrick Drake, looked thunderstruck by everything that was happening around him. She had always known that her past would drive him away; she just never thought this would be the part that did it.

Understanding began dawning on Patrick's face. He still didn't know the _why_, but he was seeing very clearly that he had been set up to give that book to Robin. "I thought he was just being friendly," he muttered, rubbing a hand across his forehead. "He was asking questions, talking about...about his past, actually, but it didn't really make any sense, so I didn't think anything of if."

Mac looked like he was barely controlling his anger. "_What_, exactly, did you tell him?"

"Her name," Patrick said, speaking low, his eyes locking onto Robin's. "Her name, where we lived, her job, what she was like..." His voice trailed off as he thought back on all the information he had divulged to whoever that man was who made the pillars of Port Charles tremble. Patrick's eyes begged Robin to forgive him. "I didn't know--"

"No, you didn't!" Mac took a step towards Patrick, but Lucky beat him to the punch. Literally.

Grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, Lucky swung a hard left hook into Patrick's jaw. Robin yelped and rushed forward, but Luke was first, pulling his son off the stunned surgeon.

"You don't get what you did!" Lucky shouted, trying to free his arms from his father's grip. "You have no idea what you just brought down on all of us! On _Robin_!"

"Lucky!" Liz and Lulu both shouted.

"You should have just left her alone!" Lucky hissed, though he had ceased struggling. Wrenching himself free, Lucky walked back towards his wife and sister.

Patrick remained on the couch, shocked and rubbing his sore jaw. He was surprised when Robin sat down next to him and pried his hand away to examine his face.

"Let me take a look," she murmured. Robin prodded gently along Patrick's jaw, ignoring the heated debate going on around her. She kept her eyes focused firmly on Patrick's injury, and Patrick kept his eyes focused firmly on Robin. It didn't really hurt that bad, anyway. "I'm sorry," she said quietly after a moment. "Lucky shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine," Patrick replied, just as quietly. "Just, can you answer one question?"

"What?"

"How does the book fit in? That's the part I can't figure out."

Robin inhaled a shaky breath. "Did you ever read PK Sinclair's novels?"

Patrick frowned at her non-answer, but decided to follow along. "My mom loved them. She wanted to be the heroine, Davnee; told me _she_ was the kind of woman I wanted to find someday." Shrugging, Patrick grinned. "Mom said I was too young to read them, so I snuck the books with me to school. I had a total crush on the girl in _Crystalline Conspiracy_."

He was surprised when Robin laughed. "God, is _that_ ever another story for another time." Her expression sobered quickly, however, drawing Patrick's attention back to the serious tone all around them. Speaking low, Robin finally told him what he had wanted to know. He wished she hadn't.

"Everything in those books is real. He...he wrote it to recapture everything. Davnee is my mom, Patrick. Anna _Devane_. PK Sinclair is Cesar Faison, the man who--"

"He's the one who did all this, wasn't he?" Patrick said in growing horror. "He's the man from your childhood. Your nightmare." Everything made sense, now, and Patrick suddenly felt sick with himself. He didn't blame Lucky in the slightest for hitting him. Patrick _had_ led this crazy spy that everyone was so afraid of directly to Robin. Patrick would punch himself if he could.

"It's okay," Robin said softly. "You were just trying to do something nice."

"And look how royally I screwed that up." Patrick thought about it for a moment, then laughed mirthlessly. "I guess this is why I should never try to be nice to women," he said, desperate to bring a light back to Robin's eye. "When I'm nice, apparently it really _is_ a sign that the world is ending."

It worked. Robin smiled, only slightly, but it was enough for Patrick.

Even in the midst of the chaos around them, Patrick was most concerned with making Robin smile. He didn't care to ponder what that actually meant.

"Are all operatives in place?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. The target?"

"Acquired. The fog is pretty dense, but field ops is reporting a positive ID."

"Excellent. Is she alone?"

"Unfortunately, we can't confirm that with complete certainty. Based on the intel provided regarding her family, ops isn't prepared to affirmatively state that."

"Very well. Proceed, but with caution. She is to be taken with the minimum necessary force. Injury might prevent her from completing her task."

"Understood. Awaiting your command, sir."

"Yes, of course. You have a go."


	10. Chapter 8 Part 1

**Chapter 8 - Part 1**

The docks were completely silent, which should have been Sam's first warning.

She had left the apartment she shared with Jason after yet another heated discussion had turned into a full-fledged fight. Sam was more worried about Jason's hair-trigger temper now than she was about any potential danger Sonny was putting Emily in. Sam loved Jason, and one of the reasons why was his total devotion to his family. The way he was acting now, though, was something different. Lately, she had been witness to a rage in Jason she had thought he only ever displayed towards enemies. The anger inside of him was dangerously close to bubbling over, especially in light of him finally seeing that his little sister and best friend were, in fact, very much together. He was taking his frustration out on the people closest to him, and right now, that meant Sam.

So she had left, not running but still exiting at a speed that belied her small size. Sam had tried to be there for Jason, to shoulder his pain from Sonny and Emily, while still dealing with her own pain caused by Alexis. Unfortunately, it seemed that Jason was not in a place where he could do the same thing.

_"Well, I don't know what you want me to do, Sam!" he had bellowed, eyes wide and burning in a way Sam had never seen before. "I can only deal with so much drama at once! First Sonny and Emily, now Sonny's making bad business decisions, which could actually_ cost _Emily her safety! Carly's running around town with Jax, and Michael keeps coming to me to get his parents to start caring about him and Morgan again! I know you're dealing with the fallout from finding out Alexis is your mother, but honestly, Sam. You said you don't want her to know, so why are you still so focused on this? I can't handle Alexis coming down on me, too, because you lose your temper and tell her everything!"_

In the back of her mind, Sam had hoped that Jason would follow her, that he would see she only wanted to help him deal with Sonny and Emily in a way that would leave them all standing together in the end, but the farther she ventured into the docks, the less likely she knew that possibility became. It hurt, she realized, to see that Jason was so unable to handle the problems of the people he cared about. It hurt more, Sam realized, to now wonder if this was something she could expect for the rest of their lives.

She stepped onto one of the platforms and tried to see out across the water to Spoon Island. It was dark and the fog was rolling in thick, and after a few minutes she could barely see two feet in front of her.

That should have her second warning.

From behind her, Sam heard a scuffle against the wooden planks. Whipping around to face the sudden noise, she tried to see through the fog. "Who's there?" she asked.

She heard more scuffling, and immediately cursed herself for revealing her position. Jason was concerned that Sonny had been lax in dealing with various business threats recently, and she knew that she was in danger by association. When she still heard sounds but no one revealed themselves, Sam panicked, immediately thinking that Manny was finally throwing off his veneer of reform and coming to finish what he had started.

Sam was terrified, but she refused to allow anyone else to exert control over her life. The trouble with Jason had broken the proverbial camel's back, and she was sick and tired of feeling emotionally tied to so many other people. It was time she took care of herself first. She narrowed her eyes, trying to focus the dim light that shone through the fog. Manny could try to take her, but she wasn't going without a fight.

The first set of arms grabbed her from behind. Sam screamed as loudly as she could, determined to make this as difficult as possible for whoever was after her.

"_Damn_!" a man's voice shouted behind her.

Good, Sam thought grimly as she struggled, let him be deaf for a few minutes. She twisted her body, trying to worm her way out of the vice-like grip around her torso. If she could just get her arms free...

"He said she'd be a handful," another man said, this time from in front of her. In the fog, Sam could only see a dark shape move to stand before her; only dark, Asian eyes were visible beneath the full body coverings. She didn't see his hands, nor the hands that held her body still. Gloves, then. They didn't want to leave trace evidence behind.

Even in the thick fog, enough lamps illuminated the night for Sam to see what the second man was holding in his hand: a syringe.

"No!" she cried, kicking the man in front of her firmly in the groin, causing him to drop the needle.

"Shit!" he hissed, falling to his knees. "Did you have to do that, lady?"

Sam wasted no time being flabbergasted; did they honestly think she would _let_ them drug her? Changing tactics, Sam abruptly went limp in her other attacker's arms. Unprepared for her to cease fighting, the first man relaxed his grip enough for Sam to shimmy out of his hold and start running.

"Get her, you idiots!" The second man, the downed Asian, shouted into the darkness.

Sam made a break for where she thought the stairs were, knowing now there were other people on the docks, but having no idea where they were. In the back of her mind, Sam catalogued everything she could about her attackers so she could inform Jason and Sonny. She tried to think of enemies they had who used drugs and stealth tactics. Yakuza out of Manhattan, maybe...

A wall stopped her from getting away. Or, she thought as she fell to the ground, a human who was just _built_ like a wall. Sam braced her hands on the ground in preparation to get up and fight, but the next words out of the new man's mouth stopped her.

"He didn't say Scorpio would be this tough to get."

Scorpio? Sam thought wildly. These men were after _Robin_? These men thought _she_ was Robin? Jumping up from the ground, Sam looked around, trying to find the other men who attacked her. She heard their footsteps echo on the wood, and knew they were almost upon her. She was boxed in, and at a disadvantage in the foggy night.

The first two men approached her again. One of them had the syringe in his hand again, and Sam prepared to fight him off.

"So, ready for another kick, are you?" she postured, trying to buy herself enough time to escape. Where were the guards that Jason had so insistently placed on her in the wake of Manny's renewed stalking during the epidemic?

"Look, Dr. Scorpio," the Asian man said. "This would go a lot easier if you just came with us. We have orders to avoid physical harm if at all possible."

Was it worth revealing their mistake? she wondered. Would telling them they had attacked the wrong woman do more harm than good? Would they just decide to kill her in order to cover their tracks? Sam knew she had to stall.

"I don't give a damn what your orders are!" she said. "You want me, you have to tell your boss _exactly_ how I got to be in such bad shape, because you _are_ gonna have to hurt me to get me to come with you."

The first man who had attacked her chuckled. "He didn't say Scorpio would be such a spitfire."

"Yeah," said the man behind her, "But he _did_ warn us not to take anything about her at face value."

Sam was shocked, but stared insistently ahead at the man holding the needle. He was the danger, she knew. He was also the one the other two seemed to be looking towards for guidance. So, the leader of this little assault, then? He was the one who knew what was going on, and he was the one who would be thinking things through the most carefully. He was the danger.

"Who are you?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

The man behind Sam stepped closer as the man with the needle moved in front of her; she saw the third man draw his gun and scan the area. He was playing scout while the other two completed the assault...no, she realized, looking at all the facts. The _abduction_.

These men were trying to kidnap Robin.

"Who the hell are you!" she screamed.

The man with the needle sighed and glared at her. "You know perfectly well who we are, _Dr. Scorpio_," he hissed out her name. "Our mission is your retrieval with a minimum of injuries. This will go much better for _everyone involved_ if you don't fight us." He stared at her in the haze, his eyes glittering with something Sam couldn't identify.

The other men stopped moving, obviously thinking she was cornered and therefore no longer a threat. They seemed convinced that Robin Scorpio was not the type of woman who fought losing battles. As she waited for the men to make their next move, Sam remembered Robin's steadfastness during the train crash, her determination throughout Jason's sickness, and her stubborn will to live during the epidemic. Smirking, Sam realized that these men's assessment of Robin's character couldn't be further from the truth. She also realized that she and Robin had more in common than she had ever thought.

They were both survivors.

The man with the needle approached her, and Sam watched his eyes flash with something she would have called remorse in anyone else. Preparing to go down fighting, all four of them paused when they heard shoes scuffle against the wooden planks of the next dock. Someone was approaching, and from the way the attackers abruptly ceased their movements, Sam knew that this new person was not one of them.

Praying she was not about to get an innocent person hurt, Sam grabbed onto this chance to escape with everything she had. In the moments the men waited to identify this new person, Sam drew in a breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.

----------

Life, Jesse Beaudry thought, was finally settling into something resembling normalcy.

His life had never been ordinary, in the most common sense of the term. Or the most uncommon, actually. Though he had long since gotten over feeling sorry for himself, he could admit that no one should ever have to experience the kinds of traumas and losses he had at such a young age. He had felt like an old soul, bitter and hardened by the brief passage of time. He had lost everything, from his family to the very self-identity he had built up in the wake. Begin a cop had seemed like a saving grace, until he was fingered as crooked. If he could not make this new life he had built up from the ruins of his old one work, then he would have had nothing left to live for. Jesse had thought his short life was finally over.

It had been the best thing that ever happened to him. Maxie Jones had stormed into his life like a whirlwind, an impressive feat for someone who was confined to a hospital bed for much of their early acquaintance. Since then, they had seen each other through drugging, stalking, train crashes, and an encephalitis outbreak. Jesse smiled and fingered the receipt in his pocket. He and Maxie were long overdue for some good old-fashioned romance.

Which was why he was on the docks that night. Maxie's vague description of the "family meeting from hell" that was keeping her occupied for the evening had provided Jesse with the opportunity to arrange a surprise for her. And, if he said so himself, it was a damn good surprise.

Being a police detective in a small town like Port Charles might not have paid as well as some other careers, but since the epidemic Jesse had stashed away enough money to rent a day on the small yacht that Maxie always admired when they passed the Waterfront. It wasn't lavish or expensive, and Jesse was certain the boat would not last very long in deeper waters. But for one afternoon, for a picnic under the sun, surrounded by the open ocean and the girl he loved, it was enough. In Jesse's life, _enough_ had never happened before. For the first time, enough was perfect.

He was walking along the deserted docks, smiling to himself and wondering if Maxie would be free for a late dinner or movie, when he heard the scream. In an instant, Jesse's carefree mood vanished and was replaced with the single-minded focus of his police training. He lightened his steps so as to avoid detection, and reached into his holster to draw his gun. Off-duty or not, Jesse had long since learned that when it's dark and someone screams, it's better to have a weapon than to not.

Voices were picked up by the light breeze, and Jesse recognized the sounds of several male voices and a single female voice, the voice that had screamed. He heard scuffling, and cursing, and Jesse abandoned all pretense of stealth. He pounded down the stairs that separated the docks from one another, peering into the foggy night. Gun held solidly in front of him, Jesse announced his presence to whomever was there.

"Police! Freeze!"

----------

Sam's eyes shot up at Jesse's voice. Thank God, the police! she thought. Taking advantage of the distraction, Sam tried to run from the men. She was just out of arm's reach of the man behind her when she felt someone grab her arm and yank her back. Suddenly, she felt the needle pressing into the skin of her throat and a hand gripping her upper arm, holding her close to another body. Sam's eyes widened as she realized that the situation had just gotten a lot worse.

Jesse came down the stairs, trying to catalogue as much as he could about the scene in the thick fog. He could clearly see three bodies -- big, probably men -- surrounding Sam McCall. Two of the men had guns pointed at Jesse, while the third man held Sam in front of himself, a needle against her neck in threat. Jesse couldn't be sure if there was anybody else waiting in the shadows, but it didn't really matter. In the back of his mind, Jesse wondered why Sam had been allowed outside Jason's presence without guards. These guys had to be Manny's thugs.

"I'm PCPD!" Jesse said firmly. "Drop your weapons!"

None of the men said anything. Sam needed Jesse to get help; she knew he was thinking this was gang related, but Sam couldn't shake the feeling that whoever was after Robin, it wasn't the mob. Her eyes widened when Jesse stepped into her sight, and she realized he was alone. Cops never acted alone; they were with their partner at all times. The only reason a cop wouldn't be with their partner was if they were off duty. Sam's eyes slipped shut momentarily; her gut was telling her that this was going to get very ugly.

"I said, drop your weapons!" Jesse shouted again, raising his gun into position to fire. He looked into Sam's wide and fearful eyes, trying to will her to stay still. He could get off a clean shot if she didn't move. Sam stared back, her eyes trying to tell him something, but he couldn't figure out what. In an effort to keep her calm, Jesse spoke. "Sam, I need you not to move, okay?"

"'Sam'?" One of the men with guns said in shock. "Who the hell is that?"

The other man with a gun whipped his head around to look at Sam and her captor. "This isn't Scorpio?"

Scorpio? Jesse thought wildly. What the hell...

"_Sam_!"

All eyes turned to the new figure bounding down the stairs, gun firmly in place ahead of him.

"Jason!" Sam cried. He _had_ followed her! "Help!"

Glaring at Sam's captors, Jason growled. "Let her go!"

For the first time since he became a cop, Jesse was glad to see a known mobster. At the very least, in this they were on the same side. This might even end well.

One of the men whipped around to face the one holding Sam. "Who the hell did we grab?"

The other man shook his head. "The intel doesn't matter now. Retreat, and leave no witnesses!"

The docks broke into chaos. Jesse and Jason exchanged grim looks, and each squeezed their triggers. The two men fired back, and pushed Sam and the third abductor to the ground; quickly standing, they fired again. Jason ducked behind a crate and used the shield to protect him as he shot at one of the men. He couldn't risk Sam getting caught in the crossfire, so he forced himself to only concentrate on the men with their guns out. Jesse followed Jason's lead, also taking cover behind a bunch of crates. He fired again, hoping to keep them in disarray long enough to either call for backup or, at the very least, get the weapons and syringe away from Sam. Standing up to shoot again, Jesse felt grimly certain that Jason Morgan was not about to let these men escape alive.

Sam tried to push her head up to see what was happening, but she was shoved back to the ground by the man on top of her. "This would have been so much easier if you had just come with us!" he hissed.

Twisting to the side, Sam tried to glare at him. "I'm not Robin, you idiot! You got the wrong woman!"

She must have been in shock, because she thought she saw the man narrow his eyes and nod his head. She didn't have time to ponder it, however; Sam's eyes widened, and she gasped as she felt the needle slide into her skin and pressure increase as the man depressed the syringe.

"No!" Jason screamed, seeing what was happening. He bolted out from his cover, firing off shot after shot at the men. Jesse followed suit, taking advantage of Jason's cover fire to come at the men attacking Sam.

One of the men fell to the ground, bleeding profusely from his chest. The man on top of Sam jumped up an pulled his own gun, preparing to fire.

Two more shots rang out, and two more bodies fell to the ground.

Sam was fading out of consciousness, but she clearly saw Jesse fall. The attacker who had blocked her escape route also jerked and fell forward; it must have just been her imagination that the shot came from the gun above her. Sam's vision was fuzzy, and her mind felt even fuzzier, but she couldn't have seen the man who just drugged her shoot one of his own people. She thought she heard someone whispering into her ear, "_See what you made me do?_" followed by the sound of footsteps retreating, but that must have been the drugs.

The last thing she remembered before passing out completely was how salty the air smelled. She wasn't sure if it was from the blood or the water.


	11. Chapter 8 Part 2

Erm, it should also be noted that the sum total of my medical training comes from watching _ER_. The rest I filled in by playing Fun With Keywords in Wikipedia. Neither of these things helped me understand, you know, medicine. If you do know anything about medicine, then I apologize in advance for this chapter.

This is...still really long.

**Chapter 8 - Part 2**

_"So, is there anything else you need to tell me?" Patrick had asked quietly, smiling nervously. "Any other deep, dark secrets?"_

_Robin shrugged and quirked her lips. "Well, there was that one time with the alien."_

_"And by that, you mean someone from Mexico, right?"_

_Robin looked away. "...Sure," she hedged. "Mexico. We'll go with that."_

Those were the last words Patrick and Robin had exchanged before falling silent and listening to the discussion about Faison. For almost fifteen minutes, Patrick had sat on the couch, watching the scene before him. Robin had answered several questions, and Patrick was most concerned with just taking everything in. So they sat side by side, not saying anything, but finally close enough to lend each other physical comfort; if nothing else, he wanted Robin to know he was still there. He shook his head as he thought about it all. Patrick thought Robin's HIV would be their biggest challenge, and he had already prepared detailed and complete responses to every argument he thought she might have on what was sure to be a long list against a physical relationship. The things he had learned that night, however, had tossed him on his head, and now Patrick was wondering what other surprises Robin had in store for him.

Such speculation only gave him a headache. Patrick knew he was on mental overload, and he knew that he should be dealing with all the new information like the logical, clear-headed doctor that he was. The problem was that Patrick had no idea how to even _begin_ processing it all. He had already questioned his sanity several times for moving to Port Charles; he had been completely unaware of exactly _what_ sorts of crazy things went on in the town. Patrick found himself oddly fascinated by everything going on around him, however, because it really wasn't everyday that he got caught up in the middle of an international spy caper. Although, Patrick mused, it required a certain level of cognitive dissonance to listen to the Police Commissioner talk about killing someone with no remorse whatsoever.

"Guns?" Lucky asked.

Bobby shook his head. "I like explosives."

"Poison is a classic," Felicia added.

"None of this works unless we know where he is," Mac sighed in frustration

"None of this'll work unless Bubba _looks the other way_," Luke said.

Patrick could scarcely identify the hundred different thoughts racing through his head, but he felt himself being pulled between two equally strong emotions: panic and total disbelief. The panicked part of him wanted to up and run out the door, catch the first plane to Manhattan, and never look north again. Unfortunately, Patrick now knew that Manhattan wasn't immune to this brand of insanity. So, he clung to disbelief. Disbelief was good. Disbelief was what any rational person would be feeling at the moment. Disbelief meant questioning the notion of a small, upstate New York town being a hotbed for mob activity, espionage, bioweapons testing, and...did Luke Spencer really just say that the Cassadines had tried to _freeze the world_!

"Oh, come on!" Patrick jumped off the couch. All talking immediately stopped as everyone looked towards the surgeon who they had, quite frankly, forgotten was there. "This is absolutely ridiculous!" There, Patrick thought, disbelief. And denial. Denial was always good.

"You need to be more specific," Bobby retorted. "There's a whole lot here that's ridiculous."

"Bobby!" Felicia admonished gently.

"Patrick," Robin said. "Maybe we should go into another room and talk about this." She looked at him sadly. She had been waiting for this.

"No!" Patrick spun around to face Robin. "You can't honestly tell me that any of this makes sense!"

"You know, it does get easier," Maxie piped up. "After a while, explosions in the harbor seem normal."

Georgie nodded in agreement; some things were just easier to accept after growing up in these families. "You also get used to the kidnappings."

Patrick gaped at her use of the plural.

Maxie looked thoughtful. "Actually, I think most of us here have been kidnapped."

"I haven't," Lulu said. Only in her family would that be a sign of a sheltered upbringing.

"I was only almost kidnapped once," Bobby offered.

"I _do not_ want to hear your contribution to this," Patrick told Robin. He looked pleadingly at her. Denial was difficult to hold onto with this crowd. "Robin, tell me that this is all an exaggeration."

Robin shook her head, standing up. "I can't. Get used to it Patrick. Everything we've been talking about tonight is going to get _a lot_ more normal, really quickly. Faison is a master manipulator, and nothing is ever what it seems when he's involved."

----------

Monica Quartermaine was the attending doctor in the emergency room when they arrived. "What have we got?" she asked, running out to meet the ambulances.

The paramedics jumped out of the back of the first ambulance and pulled the gurney with them. "GSW to the head," one of them said. "Cop broke up an attempted kidnapping on the docks and got a bullet for his troubles. The victim was drugged and is in the next bus."

"Oh my God," Monica breathed, finally getting a good look at the person underneath the blood and bandages. "Jesse!"

"You know him?" the paramedic asked as they ran through the ER doors.

Monica sighed. "Yes, I do." She tamped down on her instincts to be a mother and friend; right now, it didn't matter what this would do to Maxie's already fragile heart. The best thing she could do for all concerned was to be a doctor. "What are his stats?"

"He's been unconscious since we were on the scene. Pulse is thready and shallow, and his BP's 70 over 30."

"Dammit, he's hypotensive," Monica muttered. "Breathing?"

"Chest compressions in the field. He's stopped breathing twice, but tubing him was too risky because of the head trauma."

"Let me tube him."

Monica breathed in relief as Noah Drake ran over. "The bullet's already in," he said. "It's going to cause more damage in the long run if there's no oxygen flowing to his brain." Noah grabbed the intubation kit from a nurse and tilted Jesse's head back as slightly as he could. "I need some more light over here!" he shouted, angling his upper body oddly so he could see into Jesse's throat without moving his head. Moving quickly but carefully, Noah slipped the plastic tube through Jesse's trachea. Removing the guider, he moved away so the nurse could attach him to an oxygen tank. Noah grabbed at his side suddenly, but ignored it to talk to the nurses. "I need scans of his head and neck now!"

One of the nurses hurried to get a portable X-ray machine while Noah examined Jesse's injury. "It looks like the bullet entered somewhere along the second and third vertebrae..._dammit_! I can't see anything! He's bleeding out all over the place."

"We got him started on O-neg as soon as he got here," Monica said. Neurology might not have been her area, but she knew as well as any first year medical student what damage to the upper spinal column meant. "What are our options?" she asked, knowing they were limited.

Noah ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Limited. The boy needs surgery as soon as possible to remove the bullet. Even with X-rays, we won't know what we're looking at until we get inside. Where the hell is Patrick?" Noah scanned the ER for his son, but did not see him. Still holding his side as another wave of pain ripped through him, Noah could not control the grimace that crossed his face.

"Noah?" Monica asked, concerned. "What is it?" Noah gave her a look that clearly told her the answer, and Monica's face fell at the potent reminder of how close he was to his own death. "Noah, if you would just let Patrick donate--"

"_No_!" Noah shouted. Immediately lowering his voice, he tried to make Monica understand his perspective. It seemed like that was all he did lately. "Monica, I am not about to let my son undergo a risky procedure that has no guarantee of success! You know the statistics," he reminded her. "Would you let one of your children go through that for you?"

Before Monica could answer, Bobbie Spencer ran over to them. "Have you spoken to Jason yet?" she asked urgently.

"No," Monica frowned. "Don't tell me the police think he had something to do with this."

Bobbie's eyes widened. "You mean you don't know?"

That sent Monica into a panic. "Know what? _What_, Bobbie!"

"The other person who came in with Jesse," Bobbie said, knowing her sorrow at what Maxie would have to go through was on reading on her face. "It was Sam."

"What?" Monica breathed. "What happened?"

"According to the paramedics, Jesse intervened in an attempted assault on Sam. Jason was there, too, and two of the other shooters are dead."

"Oh my God," Noah breathed.

Monica raised a hand to her face in shock. "My God," she murmured. "Don't we ever get a break in this town?"

Noah snorted. "Remind me why people live here again?"

A nurse ran over to them, interrupting the conversation. "Here are Detective Beaudry's scans, Dr. Drake," she said, before moving to check Jesse's IVs.

The three veteran medical practitioners looked at the X-rays up on the light board. Noah frowned, and Monica and Bobbie gasped when they saw very clearly where the bullet was.

"Damn," Noah said. "It shattered. I'm counting two...no, three distinct pieces."

"Can they be removed without causing further damage?" Bobbie asked softly. She would need to know so she could comfort Maxie. Bobbie always tried to protect the girl's heart as much as possible.

Noah shook his head. "I'll be honest. I don't even think my son could pull this off without major permanent damage."

"How permanent?" Monica asked.

"Best case scenario," Noah said, "Is that he regains consciousness, has diminished mental capacity, and is quadriplegic. Worst case..." Noah didn't need to finish the thought. They all knew what the worst case was.

"God!" Monica slapped her hand hand against the wall. "Poor Maxie." Monica gave Bobbie a sympathetic look, ignoring Noah's confused expression. "Her heart's already weak from the epidemic..."

"Maxie is strong," Bobbi insisted, smiling sadly. "And BJ's never let her down yet."

Monica nodded, although her shoulders sagged as she thought of this new blow to a family that had already suffered so much. "I should really go check on Sam." Giving Bobbie's hand a gently squeeze, Monica made her way through the busy ER to examine her sort-of-but-not-really almost daughter-in-law.

"What was that all about?" Noah asked Bobbie.

She shook her head. "Now is neither the time nor the place for that discussion," she said gently, looking up at Noah. "When all this is over, I promise I'll tell you." Smiling slightly, she added, "You might even learn a lesson or two."

Bobbie looked pointedly at Noah, who was wincing and holding his side again, but he didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to Jesse and scribbled a few notes on his chart. "I'm holding you to that." He smiled, but quickly slipped back into doctor mode. He was always surprised by how easily the skills had come back to him once the alcohol had left his system. At least he would go out doing what he loved. Grimly, Noah noted that the young man lying before him had probably thought the same thing.

"Now, let's just keep him alive until my son can get here."

----------

"Puppet master, I believe, is the phrase you're looking for to describe Faison," Luke said.

"_Psychopath_ is the word you're looking for," Lucky growled at Patrick. Liz had not left her husband's lap since he punched the surgeon.

"Patrick," Robin said, trying to regain some control of the discussion. "I told you that this guy is the stuff of nightmares, and I meant it. Everyone in this room has been hurt by him, either directly or indirectly. He obsesses, he fixates, and he's _damn_ smart."

"How much did your mother tell you?" Mac asked quietly.

Robin gave him a meaningful look. "Enough."

Mac nodded. "Okay."

"_Robin_," Patrick said insistently. "You're an intelligent, level-headed woman. You must understand why this all seems a bit much to believe. I mean, who fakes his own death _three times_, controls people's minds, and heads up an evil international spy organization? That just...things like that just don't happen in real life!"

"You obviously haven't lived here very long," Luke snorted.

"Patrick," Mac said forcefully. "I appreciate your skepticism. And quite frankly, I don't blame you. You haven't lived this, so it's only natural that you wouldn't understand." Patrick's eyes narrowed at the veiled insult, but Mac ignored him; he did not have the time or inclination to coddle the skirt-chasing surgeon, no matter what Robin thought. "You should leave. You aren't a part of this."

Robin remained silent. Although a part of her was concerned that Patrick was now on Faison's radar, she knew he would be safer -- and, ultimately, happier -- if he was far away from her. She mentally sighed; Robin had spent so long creating the list of reasons why her HIV would cause problems that she completely ignored the other parts of her past. She should have known it would catch up with her.

Patrick, however, was pissed. How dare these people assume that just because he was in a little bit of shock over learning that Robin was most likely the target of an _evil spy_ -- Patrick still had trouble wrapping his mind around that one -- that he was preparing to abandon ship! He was a Drake, and Drakes threw their full energies into whatever they did; it didn't matter if it was alcoholism, surgery, or women. Once a Drake gave his attention to something, he dove in one hundred percent. And Patrick Drake's attention had been fully captured by Robin Scorpio, which that meant dealing with all of the mania that apparently accompanied her.

Patrick opened his mouth to tell Mac Scorpio _exactly_ where he could shove his opinion, when his beeper went off.

"What the..." Patrick pulled his pager from it's clip to read the message. "It's a 911 from the ER," he told Robin.

Robin nodded, the frowned as her pager went off as well. "I'm getting it, too," she frowned. "Whatever it is, we need to go." She looked around the room. "You'll tell me if you come up with anything, right?" Robin asked Mac.

Before Mac could respond, his cell phone rang. Signaling for Robin to wait a moment, he answered. "Scorpio." He listened to whatever was being said, and paled. "He's here with me."

Patrick and Robin exchanged worried glances. _He_?

"Oh, God," Mac groaned suddenly, a hand covering his mouth. "Yes, we're leaving now." He listened to something else, and turned to stare intently at Patrick. "Dr. Drake and Dr. Scorpio will be there as soon as possible." Mac snapped the phone shut and took a staggering breath.

"Uncle Mac?" Robin asked, scared.

Mac faced Lucky and Maxie. "That was CSU. Jesse...there was a shooting at the docks. Jesse was caught in the crossfire, apparently attempting to rescue Sam McCall." Mac's face fell as he spoke the words. "Jesse was shot. He's critical."

Maxie screamed and dropped, her fall stopped only by Georgie's and Felicia's arms. Lucky cursed loudly, and Liz jumped off his lap.

"We need to get to GH now," Patrick said calmly, taking control of the situation. Medical emergencies he could handle; that was _his_ world. "Elizabeth, you should come with Robin and me. We'll probably need you there."

Liz nodded and walked to the door with Robin and Patrick. "Lucky..." she said softly to her husband, who was not meeting her eyes.

"Lucky, you and I need to get down to the station," Mac said roughly. "Apparently, Jason Morgan killed one of the attackers." He looked at Felicia, who was holding a sobbing Maxie tightly. "Take Maxie to GH in your car."

Patrick tugged on Robin's sleeve. "We need to leave _now_. Jesse's going to need both of us treating him."

Robin nodded and opened the door, leaving the rest of the chaos behind her. At least, she thought, this was just a normal mob hit gone wrong. If Jesse had gotten hurt because of Faison, Robin didn't know how she would have forgiven herself.

----------

They got to work as soon as they arrived at General Hospital.

Bobbie Spencer immediately waved Robin, Patrick, and Liz over to two gurneys. Patrick rushed over to Jesse, lying prone on his back, the gauze pads from the field already soaked through with blood. Robin started towards Jesse when Bobbie stopped her.

"You need to talk to Sam," Bobbie said urgently. "She's been trying to ask for you."

Confused, Robin walked over to the Sam's bed, where the other woman was struggling to remain awake. "Rob'n..." she slurred. "Don't...not her...'M not her..." Sam mumbled the words, and Robin's mind went to work cataloguing her symptoms. It was obvious she was drugged, but Robin couldn't treat her without knowing what would cause contraindicated effects.

"Sam?" Robin leaned over and asked. "Sam, can you hear me?"

Sam forced her eyes to open. She was having difficulty focusing on anything, and appeared to have trouble holding her head still. Between that and the difficulty staying conscious, Robin figured she had been doped with Rohypnol. "Ro...Robin?" Sam asked softly.

Robin nodded. "Yeah." She smiled, trying to comfort Sam. Robin forced herself to ignore Patrick barking orders at the other doctors and nurses as he prepped Jesse for emergency surgery. Robin had to close her eyes when she heard Patrick's diagnosis. _"Shattered bullet along the first and second vertebrae."_ There was no coming back from that, but if she acknowledged that right then, Robin was certain she would lose her last tenuous grip on her calm.

"Robin," Sam mumbled, rolling her head to try and look at her. "Need to tell you...thought it was you..."

Robin frowned as Sam trailed off again. What was she saying? "Sam, I need to you stay with me, okay? Do you remember anything about the drug you were given? How much? How they administered it?"

"Needle..." Sam said. "Needle... Shot my neck..."

That made sense, Robin thought. Whatever it was had entered Sam's bloodstream directly.

"Need to tell you," Sam tried again. She forced her eyes open and looked at Robin. "The men...thought I was you..." Sam couldn't hold on, and slipped back into unconsciousness, leaving Robin standing shell-shocked.

"Robin!" Patrick shouted as he and two nurses moved Jesse's bed towards the elevator. "I need you scrubbing in on this! I want you monitoring his IV drips; I don't want to save his brain only for it to be fried from the anesthetics!"

There was no time to worry about what Sam had said. It was entirely possible that her words were the deluded ramblings of a person drugged beyond reason. But if they weren't, if Sam was telling her about what really happened...

It didn't matter. Robin rushed after Patrick and the others, determined to do her best to see Jesse through his surgery. She had known for a very long time that she couldn't control most of the things in her life, but there was one thing she had always had total control over. Robin was a damn good doctor, and nothing, not even Cesar Faison, could take that away from her.

----------

Wagner was playing over the PA system the entire time. Patrick always hated irony.

"I need suction, dammit!" Patrick shouted at the assistant surgeon. "I can't see a damn thing in here with all this blood!"

"The vertebral artery's been lacerated," the other surgeon said. "He's bleeding out faster than we can replenish."

Patrick cursed. "The bullet fragmented all along his vertebraeI'm seeing frayed nerves everywhere."

Robin stayed to the side, monitoring Jesse's midazolam and morphine levels. She couldn't increase it much more without risking permanent absorption by his nerve cells. "Dr. Drake, he can't stay under for much longer," she told him, concentrating only on Jesse. Robin already knew that no one, not even Patrick, was good enough to save him.

"Well, then," Patrick said gravelly. "I better clean this up quickly, before-- _Shit_!"

The entire surgical team jumped at Patrick's outburst. "What is it?" Robin finally ventured. Patrick was unflappable during surgery; whatever this was, it was bad.

"The bleeding's not coming from the vertebral artery," he said as calmly as he could, desperate to maintain some control despite what he knew was happening. "One of the fragments hit the basilar artery." Patrick cursed again. "His brainstem hasn't been getting blood for almost forty-five minutes, and no one caught it." Patrick turned his head away from everyone. He couldn't look at Robin, and he owed Jesse the courtesy of not staring at the sight of his failure. "He's been gone since he hit the ground."

Talk ceased in the OR as the reality of what Patrick said hit them. With a hard slap against the operating table, Patrick pulled off his surgical cap and looked at the body. Taking a shuddering breath in, Patrick forced himself to say the words for the first time in his career. "He's brain-dead."

Patrick ignored the nurses who began cleaning up. He ignored the assistant surgeon, who quietly moved into Patrick's place to close up the incisions. God help him, but Patrick couldn't look at Robin. He couldn't look into her eyes and see what he thought awaited for him there. He had never lost a patient before, and the first time he does, it is someone close to Robin's family. Patrick turned away from the body and slowly walked out of the operating room, ignoring Robin when she said his name. He couldn't face her yet, not in light of this latest failing. Patrick was starting to think he wasn't any good for Robin, after all. In complete ignorance, he had led a murderer directly to Robin's doorstep, and in complete enlightenment he had killed someone her cousin loved.

Never let it be said that Drakes did anything halfway.


	12. Chapter 8 Part 3

Okay, I needed to wrap up the transplant storyline. It played out great onscreen (what we saw, anyway), but I needed Patrick not to be in a hospital bed. He can't exactly help Robin track down evil spies halfway around the world with a gaping hole in the side of his body. Also? Sex in cramped places is harder.

**Chapter 8 - Part 3**

Robin entered the locker room and stared at Patrick's back, not saying anything. She knew there was nothing she _could_ say.

Patrick sat on the bench, his surgical cap crumpled in his hands. She couldn't see his face, but Robin could hazard a guess as to what he looked like. The memory of the first patient who died while under her direct care was something that would stay with Robin for the rest of her life. The frustration, the shock, and the bitter questioning of her medical skills had assaulted Robin the moment she watched her patient, a twelve-year-old girl with a brain tumor, flatline after injecting her with a new treatment protocol. Robin's supervising doctor may have designed the drug, but Robin was the one who gave it to that little girl, and she was the one who watched her die. Robin was the one who had advocated for drug treatment as opposed to surgery, and the realization that she had been wrong was devastating. Robin knew just how difficult it was to bounce back from that, even though it got easier after the first time. The problem was, that first time would either make someone a better or a worse doctor, and Patrick was just arrogant enough for this to destroy his confidence in himself.

On top of everything else she'd thrown at him today, Patrick had to be feeling pretty damn miserable.

"You can say it, you know."

Robin pulled herself from her thoughts when Patrick spoke. "Say what?"

Patrick inhaled deeply before speaking. He had been doing a lot of deep breathing that night. "Whatever words of condolence or sympathy you have." Patrick turned sideways, not facing Robin yet but seeing her out of his peripheral vision. "Isn't that what you're supposed to do right now? Tell me that it gets better, that this will make me a better doctor?" He laughed bitterly. "Or better yet, how about you tell me it wasn't my fault?"

Robin shook her head. "No condolences. You lost your first patient tonight. It sucks." She shrugged, looking at Patrick just in case he faced her. "Nothing I say will change that."

He nodded, his eyes still downcast at his cap. "Yeah." Patrick fell silent, and Robin didn't say anything else, for which he was grateful. Somewhere in his mind, Patrick knew he was holding onto his cool by a razor-thin string, and he didn't know what would finally cut it. That night had been nothing but a serious of revelations that, if taken one at a time, he might have been able to process. As it was, however, Patrick wasn't sure he could even _look_ at Robin.

It wasn't her fault, he knew. None of it was. Patrick had spent much of the half-hour since leaving the OR mentally tallying all the mistakes he had made in recent days. Let's see, Patrick thought, I've humiliated Robin in front of a woman she hates, almost pushed her into the arms of a _prince_, and alerted a megalomaniacal spy who used to be obsessed with her to Robin's exact location. Patrick had to laugh at himself. Not many guys can say they were directly responsible for the destruction of their--

He wasn't even sure what to call her anymore. Patrick could scarcely believe it was just the previous night when he and Robin had argued over the very nature of their relationship. After last night, Patrick was looking forward to teasing her about being his _girlfriend_; he even had a great line about carrying her books to class ready for her inevitable retort. Patrick always enjoyed their banter. Until last week, he hadn't realized how much he had come to depend on it to break up the monotony of the day, and it had finally seemed like they were getting it back. He should never have gotten Robin that stupid book! He should have just gone with his first instinct and gotten her an enormous bouquet of flowers. Unoriginal, yes, but at least then Patrick wouldn't have gotten her killed.

Patrick swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. He _had_ killed someone that night. It didn't matter that he hadn't fired the gun, Patrick hadn't been able to save him. It had been Patrick's hands digging around Jesse's spinal cord when brain-death was pronounced -- hell, Patrick had called it -- and nothing could diminish his responsibility for that. Jesse Beaudry was dead, and Patrick hadn't been able to bring him back. For the first time, he had utterly failed as a doctor. Coming on the heels of his recent failings as a friend and a man, it forced him to pause and rethink things. Maybe Mac was right. Maybe Patrick _didn't_ have what it took to be a part of Robin's life. He had certainly proved it by killing her cousin's boyfriend.

So wrapped up in his own pain, Patrick didn't notice Bobbie Spencer quietly open the locker room door, and he didn't hear the hushed words she exchanged with Robin. Patrick knew Robin was still there, waiting for..._something_ from him, but he couldn't be bothered to figure out what. Patrick didn't pay attention to the sheet of paper Bobbie handed Robin. Patrick didn't even know the exchange had happened until he felt Robin sit down beside him on the bench.

"Patrick?" she said softly.

He didn't answer, merely nodding his head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Patrick, I need to ask you something," Robin said. "Did you take your father off the transplant list?"

Patrick lifted his head slowly. "Why?" He still wasn't looking at her.

Robin sighed. "Can you just answer the question?"

Some of her usual snippiness had slipped back into her tone. Good, Patrick thought. Robin was the one person he would never take pity from. "No, I didn't get the chance to take him off."

"You mean you were still holding out hope that Noah would change his mind."

Huffing, Patrick finally turned to face Robin. "So what if I am?" he asked fiercely. "So what if, after everything else, I don't want my father to die?"

Robin held up a hand in defense. "Hey, I didn't say anything." She sighed then, and showed Patrick the paper Bobbie had brought. "This is Jesse's lab report. Look at his blood type."

Patrick took the paper from Robin, and felt his heart beat irregularly. "He's an exact match," he whispered.

Robin nodded. "The donor registry just contacted the surgical team. They want the hospital to give Jesse's liver to Noah."

For a moment, Patrick couldn't think of anything to say. He desperately wanted something good to come from this night, but his hope warred with the cynical voice inside his head that said Noah would never accept the transplant. Patrick said as much to Robin.

"Well, then," she said simply. "We'll just have to convince him."

----------

Bobby sat down next to Maxie, feeling more awkward than he ever had in his entire life. Awkwardness wasn't something that came naturally to him, and it certainly wasn't something he learned from his parents. Yet there he was, being and feeling awkward.

Felicia stood near the Nurse's Station talking in hushed tones with Elizabeth and Bobbie Spencer, while Georgie sat on Maxie's other side and Lulu sat across from her on the low table. Both young girls were quiet, merely offering their support as Maxie stared down at her hands. Maxie had stopped crying a while ago, not long after Robin had come out of the operating room to tell them the terrible news about Jesse. That had been a half-hour ago, and Maxie had fallen silent not long after she left.

Bobby didn't know how to be there for Maxie. Hell, he wasn't even sure he belonged there. He was a Donoley, in the company of Scorpios, Jones's and Spencers, and he felt completely out of place. Bedtime stories about his parents' Golden Days in Port Charles didn't amount to much when the dust settled. The reality was, Bobby had never met any of these people before that night. Their families may have belonged together, but Bobby didn't belong. So he just remained, awkward, but refusing to walk away. These were people he should have known, and his mother always told him there was no time like the present to reinvent the past.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said finally. "I wish I'd known Jesse."

Maxie nodded. "Yeah." Her voice was rough; Bobby could hear the tears in her words. "He was a really wonderful guy. He always..." She stopped for a moment and wiped at the tears that leaked from her eyes. "He always tried to do the right thing, you know?" Maxie frowned as more tears fell. Crying never helped anything, and it wasn't making her feel better.

"He liked being a cop?" Bobby asked quietly.

"Yeah," Maxie smiled slightly. "He finally felt like his life was on track. He liked helping people."

"Then..." Bobby struggled to find words that wouldn't sound trite. In the end, however, that's all there really was in a situation like this. No words could make Maxie feel better, and no words could bring Jesse back. "Then it sounds like he at least went doing what he loved. He saved someone tonight, right?"

More tears slipped down Maxie's cheeks, and the smile that crossed her face showed more sadness than crying could. "He did. I guess that's something, right?" She looked away from Georgie, who held her hands comfortingly, and turned her head towards Bobby. "I mean, we all learned early on that a long life isn't guaranteed. In our families," she said softly, "dying doing what you think is right is really the best we can ever hope for."

Bobby nodded, because there was nothing to say.

Lulu leaned over and squeezed Maxie's hands, smiling sympathetically. "Hey. Lucky and Mac are going to find out who did this," she said firmly. "Nothing will stop my brother from arresting whoever sent those bastards."

"Lulu!" Georgie hissed.

"What?" Lulu scoffed. "They _are_ bastards, and I'm not going to hide my anger at them!" She tugged on Maxie's hands. "Hey, look at me." Maxie looked up. "You said it yourself: we learn certain lessons in our families. One of them is that no matter how long it takes, we find the people who hurt us, and we _take them down_." She turned fierce eyes back to Georgie. "Tell me I'm wrong," she challenged.

Georgie opened her mouth, but decided not to say anything. Lulu was right, and Maxie needed to know that they were all supporting her, and would do whatever it took to find the people responsible for killing Jesse.

Bobby looked between Lulu and Georgie, watching the silent exchange between them. He wondered how different his life would have been if he had grown up with these girls.

Maxie stopped paying attention to the people around her. She knew that Georgie, Lulu, and Bobby were trying to comfort her, but she was distracted by the intense conversation that Robin and Patrick seemed to be having with Bobbie. Maxie didn't blame Patrick; she knew his reputation, and knew he had done everything he possibly could have to save Jesse. Idly, Maxie also thought about all the shocks the man had been subjected to already; she had a feeling that he was on as much of an emotional overload as she was.

Overload was a kind term for what she was feeling at the moment. _Overload_ to Maxie meant too much to process, and that was not the case. There was only one thing Maxie had to focus on, and that was that Jesse was dead. Jesse was dead. She hated the way the words sounded in her head, and noticed that no one had actually said the words aloud yet. Even Robin had said he was "brain-dead," although Maxie thought they were the same thing. Brain-dead meant no more life, ever, so brain-dead was just regular dead, right?

Regular. It was strange to think of it that way, but there really wasn't anything special about Jesse's death. No bizarre illness had taken him, no freak accident, just a cop being shot in the line of duty. His death was _normal_, and it made Maxie want to scream. She had put on the brave face required of her and said Jesse had gone out doing what he loved, but it wasn't a fair death. Jesse's life had been anything but normal; he deserved a death that defied all the expectations. Instead, she was mourning the death of the man she loved from a criminal's bullet. It reeked of regular cop-death, and Maxie hated that the rest of the world would remember him as a regular cop.

Maxie had watched as Robin and Patrick grow more despondent while talking with Bobbie, and she was certain that Patrick had glanced over at her more than once. She knew the look of sorrow in his eyes wasn't just for her, and it wasn't just for himself. Maxie knew what someone looked like when faced with losing someone they loved, and she couldn't bear to see that look in more than one person's eyes that night. She knew she would see it often enough whenever she looked in the mirror, and she also knew that more people would have it in the days and weeks to come. God, she thought furiously, why did Faison have to pick _now_ of all times to return to their lives? Weren't they entitled to a period of mourning? Weren't they entitled a break?

Standing up, Maxie ignored the questioning looks on the others' faces and walked over to Robin, Patrick, and Bobbie. She knew she looked a fright, and she really didn't give a damn. Something was compounding the grief they were all already feeling that night, and she needed to know what it was. Maxie wanted _something_ she could control, even if it was just knowledge of what was happening in someone else's life. She remained a ways behind them for a moment, and heard them speaking.

"There's nothing else I can do to convince him," Patrick said sadly, angrily.

"Let me talk to him again," Bobbie said. "There's something I think I can tell him to change his mind."

Patrick laughed caustically. "Unless you can convince him not to live with the guilt of taking the transplant away from someone 'worthier,' then you can kiss my dad goodbye."

"What?"

Robin, Patrick, and Bobbie jumped and turned around at Maxie's shocked voice. Robin's face fell when she realized that Maxie had heard them talking. "Maxie, you shouldn't have to worry about this--"

"What do you mean, Patrick's dad is gonna die?" She wrapped her arms around herself. Funny, it hadn't felt cold a moment ago.

"Maxie," Bobbie said gently, rubbing a gentle hand on her arm, "You know that Jesse was an organ donor."

She knew. She remembered the conversation vividly. Maxie had hated herself for hating the idea of Jesse being cut up and sent off all over the country. She had hated herself for thinking of it that way, and not as the precious gift she knew all too well that it was. She hated that she could be so selfish, and want to keep Jesse with her forever. She hated that she understood exactly why he wanted to donate. She hated him for even _talking_ about dying. Most of all, she had hated him for reminding her that they were all mortal. So, Maxie just blinked back her tears and nodded.

"The hospital wants to give Noah Jesse's liver." Bobbie knew Maxie was strong enough to handle hearing it.

"But, that's good, right? Maxie was confused, especially because of the looks on everyone's faces. "I mean, he's really sick, right? He'll die without it?"

Patrick nodded. "Yeah," he said hoarsely. "I...I shouldn't be talking about this with you."

Maxie put a restraining hand on his arm as he tried to leave. "Wait," she said. "I don't blame you." She tried to smile, but couldn't. She suspected there was a lot of that going around that night. "So, Jesse'll get to save your dad? That's good news. He would have wanted that."

She was surprised when Robin shook her head. "Maxie, Noah is refusing the transplant," she said sadly. "He doesn't think he deserves it."

"Where is he?" Maxie surprised herself with her own vehemence.

Bobbie stepped forward. "Sweetie, you shouldn't have to do this right now. I know how you feel about this, so let me talk to Noah--"

"Where. Is. He?" Maxie gritted out, feeling fresh tears sting her eyes. It was strange, she thought, to feel grateful for another emotion besides sadness. She felt grateful for the rage, for the righteous indignation. How _dare_ Noah Drake throw Jesse's last sacrifice back in his face? In his son's face? Jesse could no longer plead his own case, so Maxie would defend his memory and the legacy he wanted to leave behind. There was no ignoring Jesse's wishes anymore; she couldn't back away from them now. She couldn't be selfish now. There was someone who had the chance to live, who had the chance to stay behind and be with his family, who had the chance to grow old and make amends for his mistakes. It was something Jesse would never be able to do, and Maxie refused to let Noah do that to him. Robin quietly told her where Noah's office was, and Maxie stormed off for it.

Jesse could no longer speak for himself. But Maxie could, and she would. She knew what it was like to be the one left behind to carry on a legacy, and she would make Noah Drake see reason. She would convince him to honor the last wishes of the dead.

There were some lessons learned clearly in her family, and fighting for the people you loved, even after death, was one of them.

----------

"Dr. Drake?" Maxie asked, walking into his office.

Noah sat behind his desk, his head resting in his hands. He was staring at nothing in particular, because he didn't need to be looking at anything to be wrapped up in his head. He blinked and focused on the voice in his doorway, and saw it was coming from Maxie Jones. Noah sighed. What the poor girl must be feeling then...

"Maxie," he said. "I'm so sorry about--"

"Save it."

Noah blinked again. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me." Maxie frowned and closed the door behind her, taking a seat on the other side of Noah's desk. "I said to be quiet."

"I understand that you're upset--"

"Stop it."

"And you have every right to feel that way--"

"Oh my God, _stop_!" Maxie was seething, and she knew Noah could see it. He stopped talking and sat perfectly still, watching her. Maxie knew what she must look like, and she idly wondered if she had snakes growing out of her hair.

"Why won't you take the transplant?" she asked bluntly, forcing herself to swallow her tears..

"Excuse me?" Noah asked, jackknifing straight up. "Who the hell told you about--"

"Please, Dr. Drake," Maxie scoffed bitterly. "You and I both know what the hospital grapevine is like."

Noah nodded, but felt himself giving into the anger he had every time Patrick, Robin, or Bobbie brought up the subject. "Not that my personal medical matters are any of your business, _Ms. Jones_, but I made my own choices, and I'm fully prepared to live with the consequences." Where did that little girl get off, he fumed, lecturing him about how to live his life?

"You mean you're prepared to die because it's easier than living with your mistakes." Maxie was beyond caring about being polite, or about being a good volunteer. She didn't care if mouthing off to a doctor got her removed from the volunteer program. She had to try, for Jesse's sake. "They want to give you Jesse's liver." She choked on the next words. "I have to sign the authorization papers."

Noah slumped. Maxie's fury made sense now. "Maxie, I'm so sorry about Jesse. You shouldn't have to go through this at your age."

Maxie shook her head, refusing to cry. She couldn't, not when it was so important. "That's not the point, Dr. Drake. Jesse...he wanted this. He wanted to be a donor, and as much as I hated talking about it when he was alive," she sobbed that word, "I understand better than anyone why he wanted it. I understand why it was so important to him." She looked pleadingly at Noah. "I know you don't think you deserve another chance--"

"Patrick has a damn big mouth."

"--But that's what Jesse was all about. See," she felt herself calming a bit as she talked about Jesse; he always brought out better things in her, "Jesse made a lot of mistakes when he was younger. A lot." Maxie brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "He carried around a lot of guilt for the mistakes he made as a kid. He, ah, he lost his brother. He died in Jesse's arms after taking a bullet from a rival gang member meant for Jesse." She looked up at Noah, her eyes shining. She had to make him understand. "Jesse made a lot of mistakes when he was younger."

Understanding did dawn in Noah's eyes. "He thought it was his fault that his brother died?" Maxie nodded slowly, and Noah sighed. "That's a lot for someone so young to have to carry."

"But see, the thing is," Maxie pressed on, "He got a second chance. He wanted to make things right. So he became a police officer." She wiped at her eyes, cursing the tears that were leaking out. She had to get through this without breaking. "Jesse was a big believer in second chances." She looked pleadingly at Noah. "He didn't think he could ever make up for his brother dying because of a bullet meant for him, but he kept trying anyway."

"Maxie," Noah said, leaning forward, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but this isn't--"

"The guilt is suffocating."

Noah was unsure what she was referring to. "Yes," he said slowly, "I would imagine Jesse had a great deal--"

"No," Maxie shook her head. "I mean the guilt of living in place of someone else. Of getting the organ you need to live, because it means that someone had to die to save you, and that someone else is _going_ to die in your place." She hadn't even felt herself start crying at the thought of BJ. "And having to carry that every day, for _years_...God, it makes me choke sometimes."

"You...?"

Maxie nodded, and tapped a finger against her chest. "Once upon a time, my heart belonged to my cousin." She laughed softly. "BJ was this perfect little girl. I mean, she was an angel even before she died. And then she did, and Bobbie and Tony let her save me." Maxie sniffled. "My guardian angel. She...she's gone, and I'm not." The tears were falling faster, now. "And she _was_ gone, I mean, they knew she was, but as long as she was on life support, there was hope, right?" Maxie laughed and sobbed at once; it had been so long since she had told this to someone who didn't know. Years, she thought, back when Dillon was first with Georgie. "But there wasn't any hope for me, and BJ was a match, and Tony took her off life support, and he and Bobbie let her save me."

Noah sat in shock, listening to Maxie's story. Bobbie's comment in the ER made sense now. _"BJ's never let her down yet."_ That must have been what she wanted to tell him. God, he thought, Bobbie's daughter. "Maxie, I had no idea."

"I know you didn't," she said, nodding. "It's not like we advertise it or anything. I just..." She trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to say what she needed to say. "I want you to know that it's hard. It is _so hard_, Dr. Drake, carrying that around every second of every day. I think about BJ with _literally_ every breath I take. And for a while, the pressure of living for two people was too much. I started thinking that I could never live up to BJ, or that some other little girl had deserved to live more than I did, and I went a little crazy. I, uh..." Maxie brushed her hair back from her face as she thought about all the things she had done to act out her anger. "I partied. I drank. I did...a whole bunch of other things that I'm _not_ going to talk about with you," she said quickly, blushing. "I did everything I could to drown out the voice in my head that said I wasn't worthy of BJ's heart. I couldn't...I couldn't make it shut up, you know?"

They sat in silence for a few moments. "What finally made it quiet down?" Noah asked, his voice raw. "Because I've been living with guilt for ten years, and it's not going away." For someone so young, he thought sadly, Maxie had the oldest soul in anyone he'd ever met.

"It hasn't," she replied. "Not completely. It took a lot of love and work from my family to help me take a step back and see what I was doing. And after a while, it got better." She smiled tearfully. "I got my second chance when I was just a child, and I threw it away. But BJ's heart held out even when I didn't want it to, and she gave me a third chance. So I decided to protect it with everything I have and, in turn, BJ has never let me down." Maxie sniffled.

"I get it, I really do," Maxie continued. "And so did Jesse. People make mistakes, and sometimes those mistakes even cost people their lives. It's staggering, that sort of pain. I have days, and I know Jesse had days, where it feels like you can't breathe. There are days when everything is fine, and you're happy, and then there are days when you feel like the world is going to stop turning because...how could the sun keep rising when life is so cruel and tragically unfair?"

Noah closed his eyes against Maxie's words. He couldn't look at her. She was sitting there so earnestly, pleading for him to take her boyfriend's liver, trying to tell him she understood what he would have to live with if he did. But still... "Maxie, I did this to myself. You didn't. You needed a transplant because you were sick; I need one because I was weak."

"Then what about Jesse?" she asked stubbornly, her eyes burning with anger. "He got a second chance because his brother _died_ in place of him! Did Jesse not deserve to become a cop? Did he not deserve to try and make up for what happened to his brother?" Maxie started crying again. "Did he not deserve to be happy with me, even if it was only for a little while?"

Noah shook his head. "It's not the same thing."

"It is the _exact_ same thing!" Maxie cried. "The only reason you won't get the transplant is because it means you have to live with the mistakes you made! You see death as some sort of absolution, but it's _not_!" She stood up and slapped her hands on the desk. "It's _death_! It's final, and it's only easier for _you_!" The fight left her abruptly, and Maxie sank back into the chair. "Please, Dr. Drake," she begged. "Jesse dedicated his life to helping other people. Let him save one more life with his death. I know him, and he would want to give you a second chance."

Noah finally brought his eyes up to meet Maxie's. It was the same pleading that Patrick had been doing for months now, but it felt different. Noah felt different, and he knew it was because Patrick had never really understood. But this girl, a mere child, did understand, and the young man who had died that night had understood, too. Being the one left behind was a burden unlike most others, and it was something that very few people ever really had to live with. He hated himself for even thinking about accepting the transplant, and he hated himself for even thinking about denying this amazing young woman her boyfriend's dying wish. He hated that she was so much smarter than him.

She understood.

"So," he finally said. "I take this to mean my son never took me off the donor list?"

Maxie smiled, even through the tears on her cheeks. "Yeah. Does...does this mean you'll do it?"

Noah couldn't speak, so he simply nodded. What the hell was he getting himself into?

"Thank you," Maxie said hoarsely. "Jesse would be happy that you get another chance to do things right with your son. Besides," she laughed wetly. "I think Patrick is going to really need you."

"Why? What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Maxie said quickly. Obviously, she thought, Bobbie and Patrick haven't talked to him yet. "Just, um...well, Patrick and Robin are getting really close, and I'm pretty sure your son is going to make a massive dork out of himself around my cousin." She smiled, and hoped that was close enough to the truth to hide the reality.

It was. Noah laughed softly and shook his head. "So, does this mean I can expect more of your, ah, _gentle support_ in the weeks to come?" In that moment, Noah thought that this must be what it was like to have a daughter. Thank God Patrick was an only child.

Maxie waved his comment off and stood up. "Of course. I get the feeling our families are going to become very close." She looked at him, sadness creeping back into her expression. But there was sadness mixed with acceptance, and she felt in her soul that Jesse would approve of what she had done. "Can we go tell your son that you plan on sticking around?"

Noah nodded and stood up as well. "Yeah." Then he paused, and thought back to the last few minutes. "Are all the women in your family like this?"

Maxie nodded. "Yeah, why?"

Noah burst out laughing. It felt like the first time he had ever done that. "Because," he chuckled, "My son won't have any idea what hit him."


	13. Chapter 9

Oy, I really thought it would be easier to update here, what with the chapters already having been written and whatnot. If it makes you feel any better, I've slowed down on posting at the Scrubs board, too. Let's just say that real life has been interfering in a major way. And **ndhbfan**, ask for certain characters and you shall receive them. You were eerily prescient in the characters you mentioned, actually. Have you been reading my story notes?

Oh, and one line of dialogue was shamelessly stolen from Joss Whedon. That is all.

**Chapter 9**

"How is he?" Robin asked quietly, walking into Noah's hospital room.

Patrick looked away from his father's bed, where he had been since the early hours of the morning, when Noah had been wheeled out of the OR. "Good," Patrick replied, just as quietly. "He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but the transplant team said there were no complications, and so far the immunosuppressants are working. No immediate signs of rejection." Patrick sighed and dragged a shaky hand through his hair. "He...It looks like he might be okay."

Robin smiled what felt like her first genuine smile in days. "I'm so glad to hear that. I know how worried you were."

"Yeah," Patrick breathed, casting tired eyes over Robin's form. "Whatever Maxie said to him, it must have been powerful." He smiled, exhaustion covering his face. "Seems that the women in your family are a force to be reckoned with."

Blushing slightly, Robin looked down and crossed her arms over her chest. "Donation is something special to us," she said. "You know that Maxie is a recipient, right?"

"No," Patrick said. "I guess that explains why she was so determined to get my father to do this."

Robin nodded. "She understands the guilt of being left behind, as well as the responsibility that goes with surviving in place of someone else." She looked up at Patrick. "Maxie's heart...it was Bobbie and Tony's daughter's. She was killed in an accident almost eleven years ago, and Maxie had a congenital defect..." She let the story tell itself from there.

Patrick was in awe. "God," he murmured. "So Bobbie and Tony would look at Maxie every day and see...?"

"Their daughter," Robin confirmed. "And Maxie's had to live with that for most of her life."

Patrick turned back to his father. "No wonder she could get through to him."

They fell silent, watching Noah breath, and each breathing easier knowing that something good had come out of the last horrible night. There was something peaceful in the steady beeping of the monitors and the rhythmic dripping of the IV fluid. To doctors, those were the sights and sounds of normalcy, the things that meant a patient was going to live. It was this reminder of normalcy that made Robin bring up the subject that had been forced by the wayside the previous night.

"We need to talk about it, you know," she said, swallowing hard.

Patrick nodded, not looking at her. "Not a whole lot to say; I mean, a Lewis Carroll story makes more sense than your childhood. You're parents are super-spies, they've both been presumed dead several times before, and they left you with a legacy of crazy enemies. One such enemy played me like a second-hand banjo to find out everything about you, and I've apparently led him and his massive conspiracy to take over the world right back to you and everyone you care about. Oh, and let's not forget that I killed the man your cousin loved last night." Patrick turned and faced Robin, his eyes hard. "Does that about cover it?"

"You left out the fact that Faison is most likely working with an evil international spy agency."

"Ah!" Patrick snapped his fingers. "I knew I was forgetting something! I mean," he said, leaning back in his chair, "What's a crazy enemy without unlimited resources?"

Robin sighed. "You're taking this a bit far, don't you think?"

Patrick snorted. "Well, _no_, actually. I mean, God, Robin!" He flung himself out of the chair, feeling all the anger and frustration that had been building finally reach critical mass. "I need just a little bit of time to process all of this! Do you know how crazy you all sounded last night?"

"And that's why we need to talk, Patrick," Robin insisted. "Last night _was_ normal for my family. I thought," she trailed off, blowing a piece of hair off her forehead. "I thought that the worst of it was over, but apparently it's not."

"Because of me."

"No, _not _because of you, you selfish jerk!" Robin screamed. Immediately, she and Patrick looked at Noah; upon seeing that he was still in a drug-induced stupor, Robin frowned and motioned for Patrick to follow her out into the hallway. Once Patrick had closed the door behind him, Robin laid into him. "You seem to have missed the big plot point of last night, Patrick!" she hissed. "Faison didn't _need_ you to do anything. He would have found me one way or the other, and he would have gotten to me one way or the other. All you did was give him some psychological ammunition. Faison excels at psychological torture, Patrick."

"Great, so I helped him make you crazier."

"_Excuse_ me!"

"You heard me!" Patrick railed. "You've been pulling away since I gave you that damn book, when any _sane_ person would have been reaching out for support!"

Robin's jaw dropped. "Um, hello! I haven't been pulling away from you! You seem to have forgotten the other night."

"I'm not talking about the physical stuff. That's not even important right now."

Robin snorted. "Did _you_ really just say that? I'll believe _that_ when I see it."

"Robin, what the hell do you think this last month has been?" he asked, his eyes burning intensely.

"And the other night we started moving forward," Robin said, purposely ignoring the point she knew he was making. "I know I was reluctant to get involved with you, but I sure wasn't pushing you away--"

"Emotionally, Robin." Patrick's voice dropped and he swallowed. "You put back that damn wall I've been hitting my head on for months."

Robin shook her head. "I'm trying to _protect_ you--"

"I don't want to be protected!" Patrick hissed. "Not from this! Not from your life!"

"Patrick, you said it yourself. No rational person would accept the things we were talking about last night." She was so tired of fighting this. Why couldn't Patrick just accept the inevitable and walk away? Why was he prolonging something that would only hurt them both?

"I just...I just needed some time, Robin." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. He was getting used to that emotion when dealing with Robin. "I mean, it has to get easier after living here for a while, right?" Patrick laughed slightly. "Apparently, things like unstoppable epidemics and epic battles to save the world are pretty standard fare in Port Charles." He gave a soft smile, trying to put Robin's mind at ease. He was getting used to saying things like that, which had to be a positive sign. "I should probably be institutionalized for this, but I'm not letting you scare me away."

Sighing, Robin lowered her head and crossed her arms. It was so tempting to lean on Patrick, to trust the words he was saying, but she had seen what happened to people who got in Faison's path before. She knew something truly terrible was coming, and that they wouldn't know what it was until Faison made his next move. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw Patrick stand there, not three feet away from her, waiting. He was waiting for her to decide to trust him, to take a chance on him, to let him step up to the plate. With a start, she realized that Patrick had actually been waiting a very long time for her. And in the end, it didn't even really matter if she tried to push him away. She couldn't protect him, because he was involved now, too. Robin's heart had nearly stopped when Patrick told her that Faison knew who he was, and that he was in Robin's life.

She couldn't pull away from Patrick even if she tried, now. It was just a stroke of good fortune that she didn't want to.

"All right, fine," she smiled tiredly. "You win. No more shutting out." She paused, thinking about what she was getting herself into. Looking up at Patrick, she smirked. "I'm still not sleeping with you."

Patrick laughed. It felt good to finally laugh, Patrick thought, and it felt good to banter with Robin again. "Are you sure?" He raised an eyebrow. "Because I've heard that end-of-the-world sex is pretty fantastic."

Robin giggled, and allowed Patrick to pull her against his chest. She stayed there for a few minutes, just enjoying the feel of his warm, _alive_ body. If Patrick wanted into her world, she was going to let him in. Looking up at him, she posed the most important question in her family.

"So, how are you with guns?"

----------------------------------

Sam was awake when Robin entered her hospital room.

"Hey," Robin said gently. "How are you?"

Sam pushed herself up higher on the pillows. "Okay, all things considered." She looked at Robin awkwardly. "Um, I heard about Jesse," she said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Robin replied, moving to stand next to the bed. She checked Sam's monitors and IVs. Everything looked good, for which Robin was grateful.

"It was, though," Sam shook her head. "He was shot trying to rescue me."

"He was a cop trying to help someone."

"I should have known better than to be on the docks alone at night."

Robin huffed in frustration. "God! I hate that women have to say things like that! A man wouldn't think he has no business being out alone at night."

Sam chuckled lightly. "Yeah, but the men in our lives also know how to use guns."

"So do we," Robin said simply.

Conceding the point, Sam fell silent for a moment. Neither woman said anything, although both needed to speak. Finally, Robin decided that nothing was gained by avoiding the issue. Sitting down on the edge of Sam's bed, she asked the question that had been plaguing her all night. "Sam, last night, down in the ER, you said something to me."

Sam looked up at Robin. "I don't remember much after I was attacked. I mean, I have bits and pieces, but it all feels more like flashes from a dream than anything real."

"Oh," Robin replied. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on through. "You said that the men who attacked you thought that you were me."

Sam swallowed and looked at Robin. "I told you that?"

Robin nodded. "Yeah, but things were...pretty hectic," she said diplomatically. "I didn't have time to think about it, much less tell anyone about it."

"Oh," Sam said quietly. She was concerned that Robin seemed so accepting of what she had said. "You don't sound surprised," Sam finally said.

"I wish I was. Sam, I need you to tell me anything you can remember about last night."

Sam narrowed her eyes. "Why? What's going on?"

"Hopefully, nothing else that will involve you."

Something one of the men last night had said popped back into Sam's mind; _"This will go much better for everyone involved if you don't fight us." _Sam gasped at the memory. "That's...that's what one of them said last night, that there were other people involved."

"Sam," Robin repeated pleadingly.

"Look, it was a dark and foggy night--" Both women giggled at the ironic wording, although there was nothing funny about it at all, "--And I couldn't really see anything about the men."

"Anything would be helpful," Robin said.

"There were three of them," Sam told her. "They were completely covered; their hands, their faces, everything. I could only see their eyes."

Robin nodded. "Only two bodies were recovered. Do you remember anything distinguishing?"

"One of them...the one with the syringe, he was Asian. I couldn't see anything more than that. He was the one in charge."

"How could you tell?"

"The other men were taking their orders from him." Sam frowned, trying to recover her memories from the previous night. "I think...it was strange, but I think he may have known that I wasn't you." As she recounted her story, it made less and less sense to her. "He said something...I can't remember, I think I was already drugged..."

Robin peered curiously at Sam. "He knew you weren't me?" That didn't make any sense...

Sam nodded. "You're remarkably calm about all this."

Robin shook her head. "No. Mostly, I'm just trying to piece everything together that I can. You're sure they thought you were me?"

"Yeah, they used your name. It was really strange, actually. They said they had orders to take you, but with as few injuries as possible. I was able to fight them off for a bit before Jesse and Jason--Oh my God, Jason!" Sam bolted up in a panic and pulled at her IVs.

"Sam! Sam, relax!" Robin tried to calm the other woman down. "He's okay." Sam stilled. "He shot one of the men who attacked you. My uncle Mac has had him down at the stationhouse for most of the night for questioning."

"Can you call him?" Sam asked softly, her eyes shadowed. "We...we had a fight last night. That's why I was out; I needed to clear my head. I was so afraid when they started shooting..." Sam trailed off and wiped at her tears.

"Hey," Robin said gently, placing her hand over Sam's. "You know Jason. It takes more than a couple of flunkies to take him down."

Sam tilted her head to the side, looking confused. "Flunkies from where?" she asked. "Robin, why do I get the feeling you know more about what happened last night than I do?"

Robin sighed. "I only know what I think happened. What you said, about them having orders not to hurt me...something _is_ going on, and I'm so sorry that you got caught up in it."

Sam leaned forward. "What is it, Robin?" she asked, genuinely concerned for the other woman. "If someone is after you, let me talk to Sonny and Jason--"

"No!" Robin yelled sharply. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. "No," she said again, more quietly. "Listen, the safest thing for you to do is to _not_ get Sonny and Jason involved in this. The less they know, the better they can protect you, just in case..."

"Just in case...?"

"Just in case they decide you're too much of a risk, now that you've seen one of them. Whoever he is, he's probably reported that last night's grab was a failure."

"Reported to _who_?" Sam asked again, getting agitated. "Robin, if you're in danger, Sonny and Jason are gonna want to know."

Robin just shook her head insistently. "No, they can't. Promise me, Sam. Promise me that you won't them get involved. The world's turned upside-down in the last few days, and now the safest people are the ones protected by the Corinthos name."

"Then just let me--"

"_Sam_," Robin interrupted. "When I say that, I don't mean that Sonny's connections can protect them. I mean that there are certain _families_ that are at risk now, and it's as simple as having one of those names that's putting us at risk."

Sam blinked. "'Us?'"

Robin nodded. "Scorpio, Jones, Spencer, Donoley." She ticked off the names on her fingers. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the Cassadines are at risk." Robin noticed Sam's sharp intake of breath, but did not question it; the problems between Sam and Alexis were _not_ something she had the strength to deal with at the moment. "This is a problem that's older than Sonny's presence in Port Charles." She looked meaningfully at Sam. "You're safe as long as you're associated with him, and not one of our families."

Sam shook her head, convinced that she was still confused from the drugs. "Okay, you do realize that this makes _no_ sense, right?" she asked. "I mean, whatever's going on, I'm involved now. You said it yourself: I've seen them, and I know who they were after. That makes me a target."

"Yeah," Robin conceded. "I'm just hoping that they'll decide to cut their losses and continue with whatever plan they had."

"Who are '_they_?'"

"No one you want to get involved with, Sam." Robin stood up and reached for Sam's chart. "Believe me, if this is as bad as it gets for you, count your blessings." Robin walked towards the door. "Everything checks out fine. I'll go start your discharge paperwork and call Jason for you, okay?"

Sam nodded. "Thanks." She paused, unsure if it was her place to say anything, then finally decided that it couldn't hurt. "Robin!" she called.

The other woman stopped at the door and turned around. "Yeah, Sam?"

"I just..." Sam struggled for the right words. "I know we don't know each other very well, but if you ever need to talk about anything..." She let the offer hang in the air. "I mean, at the very least, I understand how weird life can get sometimes." She smiled tentatively. "And I'll never give Carly any ammunition to use against you."

Robin had to laugh at that. She appreciated Sam's offer, and wondered at how easy it was to sell the woman short, just because she associated with Sonny and Jason. Ruefully, Robin admitted to herself that she was guilty of doing just that. "Thank you," she said, smiling genuinely. "I may just have to take you up on that offer."

Sam frowned thoughtfully. "Robin?" she asked again. "Whatever's happening, it's going to get bad, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Robin answered softly. "It's going to get really bad."

---------------------------------------

As soon as he had looked towards the elevators and saw Robert Scorpio exiting, Patrick had known that what had been shaping up to be a relatively decent day -- all things considered -- was about to go straight to hell. Patrick had fluctuated between ambivalence and mild anger the last time he met Robert; playing Dead Daddy for fifteen years had not endeared the man in any way to Patrick. Now, having gotten to know Robin better, and having gotten mixed up in the German opera that was her life, Patrick felt nothing but contempt for the older man. Robin had needed him for _years_, and he hadn't been there. Patrick understood that pain a little too well for him to be completely objective. As Robert approached the Nurse's Station desk, Patrick found that he didn't care all that much about objectivity.

"Mr. Scorpio," Patrick greeted coolly. "What are you doing here?"

Robert smiled in reply. "Dr. Drake," he nodded. "I see things are back to normal after the epidemic."

"Yes," Patrick said. "You didn't answer my question."

Raising an eyebrow, Robert shrugged off Patrick's attitude. "I finished my clean-up mission in the Markham Islands," he said. "I'm back to see my daughter."

Patrick was skeptical, but figured the man was as worried about Robin as the rest of them were. "So you know."

"Know what?" Robert frowned, immediately on edge. "What are you talking about?"

"Uh..." Dammit, Patrick thought, one more mistake I can add to the rapidly-growing list.

"Spit it out!" Robert snarled. "I just get back into town, and the first thing anybody tells me about Robin is that she's in some sort of trouble!"

"Hey, I never said that!" Patrick defended.

Robert looked at Patrick with an expression of supreme arrogance and supreme distaste. "You just did."

Patrick was really starting to hate Robin's father. "Look, I'm probably not the best person to explain all this to you--"

"Explain all _what_?" Robert asked very slowly. "If you know anything about me, then you know you should start talking very, _very_ soon."

Patrick sighed and flopped a few patient folders against the desk. He figured the situation would make sense to Robert, but telling him would mean that Patrick would have to actually _tell him_. Patrick still wasn't sure _he_ fully understood everything. So, he figured he would approach the situation like a medical case: nothing but the facts, laid bare for the other party to make of them what they will.

"Apparently, Robin's the target of one of your old enemies," Patrick began, his mouth souring at the thought that, in a roundabout way, this was as much his fault as Robert's. "She's terrified, her family's terrified, and a whole lot of people seem to be imagining various painful ways to make sure this guy doesn't rise from the dead a fourth time."

Robert gaped. "What the _hell_?" Leaning across the desk, he grabbed Patrick's jacket collar and yanked him forward. "You'd better explain that to me again," he growled, baring his teeth in a nasty grimace. "_Who_, exactly, is after my little girl?" Robert ignored Patrick's strangled yelp, as well as the curious stares of the people around them. Let security try to pry me off this arrogant sonofabitch, Robert thought. It'll be funny.

"Would you let me go!" Patrick hissed, pulling at his collar. "This is _not_ a conversation you want other people hearing!"

Robert let go, but continued to stare Patrick down. "You'd better tell me what's going on before I--"

"Before you what?"

Both men turned around at Robin's voice. "Hello, Dad," she said flatly. "Back so soon?"

Robert relaxed slightly. Whatever was happening, at least Robin was safe for the moment. "I came back to Port Charles as soon as I wrapped up my assignment. I figure it's time for you and I to reconnect."

Robin snorted and moved around behind the Nurse's Station, motioning for Sam to follow her. "I just need you to sign these," she said to the other woman, handing her several hospital forms and completely ignoring her father.

"Robin," Robert warned.

"Robin," Patrick said tentatively. "I kind of told him...um..."

"Oh, good God!" Robin huffed, whirling around to face Patrick. "You really don't understand the concept of tact, do you?"

Patrick shrugged, grateful for the chance to get back on solid footing. "Tact is just not saying true stuff."

"Would someone _please_ tell me what is going on around here?" Robert fumed.

Sam just felt terribly confused. "Hi, Mr. Scorpio," she waved. Maybe Robin was right, and she _didn't _want to know anything.

Robert blinked, momentarily distracted. "Hello," he replied automatically. Frowning, he pulled the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Robin, the young Dr. Drake here seems to think that you're in a spot of trouble. Now, I _know_ that however we left things the last time, you wouldn't _not_ tell me if something was wrong." He waved a hand. "Like oh, say, an old enemy of mine was trying to get you?"

"You told him about Faison?" Robin hissed at Patrick.

"_What the devil_!"

"That seems to be the consensus," Patrick groaned.

"Who's Faison?" Sam asked. She figured it was ultimately better to know than not to know.

"What do you mean, Faison?" Robert repeated. "Robin, the bastard's dead! I know. I saw the confirmation from after the last time he was in Port Charles."

Robin laughed bitterly. "You mean confirmation like the _last_ time he was confirmed as dead?"

Robert paled slightly. "Oh my God."

"Yeah," Robin shook her head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. "So, as it turns out, I do need you after all, Dad."

"Sam!"

Patrick visibly relaxed. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see Jason Morgan in my entire life."

"Patrick!" Robin hissed.

"Your dad just tried to kill me!"

"No," Robin countered. "He just...tried to strangle you a little. You wanted to be a part of all this!"

"Sam, thank God!" Jason bounded over to his fiancée. After pulling her into a tight embrace, he whipped around and glared at Robin. "What the hell is going on?"

"None of your damn business!" Robert answered.

"I wasn't asking you."

"I don't particularly care."

"Robin," Jason said. "Mac and Lucky told me I had to ask _you_ about what happened to Sam last night." He frowned deeply. "They said it was up to you who found out about whatever is going on."

Patrick stepped in. "Then I guess you're out of luck."

"Jason, we should really just go." Sam tugged on his arm.

"No!" Jason told Sam. "Not until I get some answers, and Robin's the only one who has them."

Robert smirked. "Now, I _know_ you didn't just threaten my daughter."

Patrick looked at Robin, for once in agreement with Robert. "Does Jason know you know more ways to kill people than he does?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "I think all this testosterone is going to make me vomit."

"What testosterone?" Patrick asked. "I'm totally going to have you beat people up whenever they cross me."


	14. Chapter 10 Part 1

So, fine, I give up. I write long chapters. And one line was shamelessly stolen from _Farscape_.

This update I'm nervous about. I didn't watch GH back when Robert and Anna were on (I think my mother would have had issues with her eight-year-old daughter watching a soap!), so I don't have first-hand knowledge about their personalities. This is based on what I could learn from The Scorpio Files and, admittedly, more than a few of the amazing fanfics featuring them. So for those of you who _did_ watch all the Devane-Scorpio antics, if I've misrepresented their personalities somehow, I'm truly sorry. Robin deserves kick-ass parents.

**Chapter 10 - Part 1**

_Robert's eyes widened in surprise for just a moment before he allowed himself to enjoy the reunion with his wife. As they broke apart, he looked at Anna and smirked. "Well, that's certainly a better--"_

_Anna pulled back and slammed a right hook into Robert's jaw, sending her husband to the floor. Cocking her gun straight at him, she shouted, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't _shoot you _right now!"_

The people gathered around the nurse's station stood, gaping at the antics taking place before them. While gunplay was by no means uncommon at General Hospital, none of them had ever thought they would see such a display from the people who had brought _Robin Scorpio_ into the world. Sam found herself torn between fear and laughter, while Jason was debating whether or not to intervene. Patrick looked from Robert and Anna back to Robin, trying to figure out _where_, exactly, she fit into all this.

Robin couldn't believe what she was seeing. Actually, she _could_ believe what she was seeing, she just never thought she would see it again. Her parents were standing next to each other, talking to each other, they were _there with her_...

And her mother was training a gun on her father.

Old habits die hard, Robin thought vaguely, as she jumped around the desk to stand between Anna and Robert. "Mom!" Robin said. "You can't shoot Daddy!"

Anna took her eyes off Robert to look at her daughter. "Oh, Robin, sweetheart, I'm so happy to see you!" Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Why can't I shoot your father?"

"Because it would be a very bad idea!" Robert shouted from the floor, not daring to move while Anna was still aiming at him.

"Because," Robin frowned, not looking at her father, "You...you could hit an organ or something."

"_That's_ your best argument!"

"Oh, don't worry, Luv," Anna smiled. "I have much better aim than that."

"Bloody insane woman!"

"Mom!" Robin insisted. "If you shoot Daddy, he'll feel like he has to shoot you back, and then where will we be?"

Robert opened his mouth to protest, but off both Anna and Robin's challenging glares, conceded the point. "Right, well, there's a fair bit of truth to that."

Jason stepped forward to intervene, but felt a restraining hand on his arm. Turning, he saw Monica Quartermaine shaking her head at him. "Someone needs to do something," he insisted.

"I wouldn't worry too much," Monica sighed in resignation. "This is all part of the Scorpio-Devane mating dance. If she hasn't put the gun away in five minutes, _then_ you can intervene."

"Monica!" Anna greeted cheerfully, as though she _didn't_ have a weapon pointed at her estranged husband while surrounded by witnesses. "You look lovely!"

"Eh, thank you," Monica replied cautiously. "How are things?"

"Peachy!"

"Hellish!"

Anna scowled. "Do shut up, Robert."

"Mom!"

"Robin, darling, what are you so worried about?" Anna asked, smirking at Robert. "Your uncle Mac isn't going to arrest me for this."

"That's not the point," Robin replied.

"Then why all the concern?"

"Can I say something?" Robert nearly begged. "Please?"

Anna and Robin looked at each other. Patrick watched them have an entire conversation with silent expressions and gestures, and he suddenly remembered Saturday afternoons at the library, when his mother used to lead a reading hour for the children in his neighborhood. She could tell entire stories with just her eyes. Patrick hadn't noticed how expressive Robin's eyes really were until just then.

Finally, Anna nodded her head slightly. "Fine. Say your peace."

Robert raised a hand. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to lower the weapon?"

Anna pouted, but lowered her gun. "Shooting makes me feel better."

"Yes, I know that." Robert sighed. "Can we please not do this out here?"

"Mom, I hate to say it, but Dad is right." Robin looked around nervously, and saw that Patrick, Jason, Sam, Monica, and Liz and several other nurses were gathered around them, all watching in morbid fascination. Honestly, Robin thought, it was like none of them had ever seen people with guns in the hospital before.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Robert began.

"I'm not speaking to you," Robin snapped. Turning to Anna, she quietly asked her mother, "Can we go somewhere else to talk about everything? You can still shoot him later if you want to."

"I beg your pardon!"

Anna scowled. "Be quiet, Robert." Anna's expression immediately changed when she pulled her daughter into a warm hug. "Oh, Robin, it's so good to see you." Pulling back, she held Robin by her shoulders and inspected her. "What on earth was that message all about?" she asked urgently. "You scared me. I hopped on a plane as soon as I got it."

Robert jumped up off the floor and gaped in disbelief at Robin and Anna's apparent carelessness. "You've been talking about..._all this_ on the _telephone_?" he asked incredulously. Glaring at Anna, he added, "And _you_! I can't believe that you would put yourself out in such a public place like a commercial airplane! _Especially_ if what Robin just told me is true!"

"You don't exactly get a say in this, Robert!"

"Can we please not do this out here?" Robin begged, once again stepping in between her parents.

Anna nodded curtly, her glare never moving from Robert's face. "Of course, Luv. Monica, is there still a conference room on this floor?"

Monica nodded in evident relief. At least her instincts were still sharp; the gun had in fact been put away in under five minutes. "Down the hall to your left," she said.

"Thank you." Raising a hand, Anna pushed against Robert's shoulder. "Move," she told him in a tone he knew better than to argue with. Anna followed Robert down the hall, ignoring the gobsmacked onlookers as they went.

Once they were out of earshot, Patrick leaned over to Robin, who had her face buried in her hands. "So," he said casually. "That's your mother, huh?"

"Yes," came the muffled reply.

"Hm. Seems like a nice lady."

"Just. Follow. Them."

"Okay."

At least, Patrick thought, life with Robin was never boring.

-----------------------------------------

The reunion was not going how Robin had wished. It was, however, going exactly as she had expected.

"Fifteen years, Robert!" Anna screamed as soon as she closed the conference room doors.

"Fifteen years where I wasn't in control of my own life, Anna!" Robert shouted back.

"You could have found a way! I know you. You could have found a way!"

"They threatened to kill you and Robin!" Robert hissed in frustration. "You, they even showed me leadership's sanction for your assassination. They left me to..._imagine_ the ways they could use Robin against me."

"What about after?" Anna's voice dropped. "After you got out from under the Bureau's thumb? Robin told me you're with a new agency, now."

Robert rubbed the back of his neck. "Yes, well...that's not entirely accurate."

"Oh my god," Robin gasped, putting the pieces together. "The Medical Rescue Agency was your cover story!"

"Robin, if you'll give me a chance to explain--"

"Shut up, Robert!" Anna stepped between Robert and Robin. She hung her head in recrimination. "I knew I should have looked through your file. As _soon_ as Robin told me you were alive, I should have gone into Records and looked--"

"Wait a minute," Robert interrupted, frowning. "How could you have done that?" Off Anna's impatient stare, his jaw dropped. "Oh my God..." he breathed. "_You're_ back with the Bureau?"

Anna nodded. "Almost as soon as I left Pine Valley, they came knocking. It was an acceptable arrangement," she told him. "I could stay in Paris with Robin, and just go off on assignments when they needed me." She laughed softly. "Mostly, they had me training younger recruits. Some of us are _out_ of field operations, now."

Robert couldn't believe it. "But...but they showed me pictures! Files! The WSB was just _looking _for an excuse--"

"Oh, what a shocker, Robert!" Anna cried. "The WSB _lied to you_!" Her voice lowered again. "They lied to both of us. They let me continue thinking you were dead, even after they took you out of Black Ops." Anna swallowed hard, trying to control her emotions. "I don't know why any of us are surprised by any of this."

As Anna and Robert continued arguing back and forth about the past and who had made what mistakes, Robin took the opportunity to pull Patrick off to the other side of the room. She should have been reeling, but instead found herself oddly comforted by the normalcy of the situation: her parents were arguing, the WSB was keeping secrets from everybody, Cesar Faison was plotting _something _in order to get Robin, and he had ordered a kidnapping on her last night. It was certainly easier for her to deal with than all the mob insanity she'd been subjected to during her time with Jason. All that was missing was a romantic entanglement in the midst of the chaos and it would be like her parents had never left. Upon seeing Patrick looking expectantly at her, Robin sighed. Never mind, she thought, got that too.

"How are you handling everything now?" she asked quietly.

Patrick shrugged. "Well, my father and I apparently have the most normal parent-child relationship known to mankind," he said. "And you are a disturbing combination of both your parents."

"That doesn't answer my question," Robin said, poking him in the side.

"I think..." Patrick thought carefully about how to describe it. "I think I may be in a little bit of shock. Not necessarily at _what_ is going on, just at _how much_ is actually happening." He sighed and placed his hands on his hips. "At this point, very little will actually surprise me."

Robin nodded. Before she could respond, however, she felt a vibration in her pocket. Robin flipped her cell phone open, but didn't recognize the number popping up in her caller ID. She figured that if her parents couldn't be bothered to notice that both she and Patrick were no longer even listening, then she could answer the call with a clear conscience.

"Hello?" Robin answered.

_"Robin?"_

Robin looked at Patrick. "Who is this?" she asked.

_"It's Bobby."_

"Bobby," Robin said. "What's up?"

_"I need to meet with you."_

Robin blinked. "Is everything okay?"

_"Um, yeah. Well, no, not really. I mean, nothing about this is okay. Look, I really need to talk to you."_

Patrick raised his eyebrows in question, but Robin just waved him off. "Well, can we talk now?" she asked, looking back at her parents, who at least appeared like they weren't going to draw weapons on each other. Again.

_"I really need to see you in person. I, um...I have something I need to show you."_

Robin frowned. "Bobby, what's so important that you can't--"

_"Look, I really can't say, especially if we assume that our phone lines aren't secure."_

"You really think Faison has nothing better to do that listen to a police scanner for cell phone intercepts?"

_"I think Faison wants you for a very specific reason, and I think I know at least some of why. We can't take any chances."_

Robin pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't suppose you'll tell me how you know--"

_"Eh heh...See, um, that's not really something I want to advertise. You'll think it's funny, I'm sure, but I can't really talk about it. I need to show you."_

Robin sighed. Patrick opened his mouth to ask what was happening, but Robin held up a finger to silence him. "All right, I'll meet you. Where are you?"

_"Um...that place with the chili. It's a decent wireless hotspot."_

"Kelly's," Robin answered. "You need to show me something on a computer?"

_"Yeah. Look, can you just come? I know the whole cloak-and-dagger thing is, like, really old, but you know as well as I do that we can't be too careful right now."_

"Yeah," Robin said in agreement. "I just need to wrap up something here."

_"Okay, see ya. And Robin? Thank you, again. I think this'll help find my parents."_

"See you soon," Robin said, closing her phone. She took a deep breath, and prepared to face the firing squad. She had a feeling she was about to send Patrick back to his period of hating her. "Patrick?" she asked tentatively.

He saw the look in her eyes. "No."

"Patrick..."

"No!" he yelped.

"Look, there's really no use arguing," Robin huffed.

Patrick's eyes widened. "You can't leave me here with them!" he hissed frantically. "They're insane!"

"They're my parents!"

"That doesn't make them any less insane!"

Robin frowned. She really needed him to do this for her. "Patrick, I have to go meet Bobby. It sounded like it was important, but I can't leave my parents alone."

"They're adults," Patrick pointed out.

"They just tried to kill each other."

"So you think leaving them here with _me_ will defuse the situation?"

Robin peered up at him in surprise. "You're honestly scared of my parents, aren't you?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," Patrick replied as though that should have been obvious. "They carry concealed weapons, and I'm not exactly who they would choose for you to, you know, 'spend time with.'"

"I swear, if you ever make air quotes again, I'm walking away guilt-free."

"Robin!"

"God!" she laughed in disbelief. "How is it possible that you've never spent time with a woman's parent's before?"

Patrick shrugged his shoulders in an attempt at nonchalance. "It's never been an issue."

"Oh my God," Robin muttered. "Have you ever even _had_ a girlfriend before?"

"_Yes_," Patrick retorted, feeling mildly defensive. "In med school. Sort of. We went back and forth. You know: together, broken up, together, broken up?"

Robin resisted the urge to roll her eyes at how petulant Patrick sounded. "And the entire time that was happening, you never once met her parents?"

"No. Mel was about as big on happy family times as I was."

"'Mel?'" Robin repeated lightly. "Is there something about your past you need to tell me?"

Patrick did roll his eyes. "_Amelia_," he emphasized, ignoring Robin's stifled giggle. "She thought it was difficult to be taken seriously as a medical student if she went by such a feminine name."

"She sounds like a peach."

"You sound upset by this new information," Patrick said quickly. "Maybe we should go somewhere else, away from here, and talk about it. At length. Anyplace where your parents are not."

Deciding she was entitled to a little bit of fun after that, Robin called across the room to her still-bickering parents. "Mom? Dad?"

Upon hearing their daughter's voice, Robert and Anna immediately brought their attention to her. "What is it, Luv?" Anna asked.

Robin took a very deep breath. "Something important's just come up, and I have to leave for a little while."

Robert jumped to attention. "Give me a half-hour. I can call in for a couple of guards."

"So now you're saying Robin can't protect herself?" Anna snapped.

"I didn't say that!" Robert retorted defensively.

Robin rolled her eyes as her parents fell back into their old patterns. "I'm leaving now!" she said loudly. "Patrick can answer any questions you have about last night!"

"Robin, you can't do this to me!" Patrick whispered. He may also have begged, but he refused to qualify his tone of voice.

"Don't worry," Robin smiled. Robin leaned up and pressed a kiss on his lips, hoping that her parents would see just how she was saying goodbye to Patrick. Smirking, she tossed his earlier words back in his face. "Surprise."

Bolting out the door, Robin allowed herself a moment of laughter at Patrick's terrified expression as she had left. It felt good to laugh, even in the midst of all the death and chaos around them. She had no doubt that Patrick would seek appropriate retribution, but she certainly couldn't fault him for that. Grinning wickedly to herself, Robin thought that Patrick's idea of revenge might even be fun.

In the conference room, Patrick was not planning revenge. He was planning his own funeral. Robert and Anna had indeed seen Robin's farewell kiss to Patrick. Both frowned, although Robert's expression was filled with paternal anger, while Anna's was filled with an intrigued curiosity. Patrick wasn't entirely sure it mattered how intrigued Anna was. He felt certain she was still going to kill him -- or at least severely maim him -- for not being the type of man she would have chosen for her only daughter.

It was when Robert and Anna began approaching him that Patrick was filled with a very stark reminder of why he had _never_ met a woman's parents before: he was a great lay, but the worst choice for an emotional investment that a woman could possibly make. It was an attitude and a lifestyle that Patrick had spent years carefully cultivating, and until that moment, it had never made the least bit of difference. He was never in any woman's life for long enough to merit an invitation to meet her parents. Now, Patrick could see those days of simplicity crashing down around him.

"So," Anna said slowly. "That was an interesting way my daughter had for saying goodbye to you."

"I have a file on you, you know," Robert added nonchalantly, enjoying the brief flash of fear in Patrick's eyes. "Exactly how many women _have_ you slept with in the last five years? I didn't have time to read the entire thing. It was a very thick file."

Forget Faison, Patrick thought. He was going to kill Robin himself.


	15. Chapter 10 Part 2

** Chapter 10 - Part 2**

It was, to be certain, the largest conference call either Dr. Howard or Dr. van der Meer had participated in since coming onto the DVX payroll. As the plasma screens clicked on all over the conference room, four key DVX officers had entered the meeting, while a fifth screen showed Faison himself. The main researchers sat around the table in the room, deep in the underground facility where they had been working for months to develop a workable prototype. The meeting was unexpected, but both Drs. Howard and van der Meer suspected it had something to do with the upcoming arrival of the "help" Faison had promised to complete the drug.

"I would like to know what happened last night, Takada," Faison began smoothly.

A man on another screen, Hiroshi Takada, frowned slightly, but otherwise showed no emotion. "An unfortunate lapse in intelligence verification, sirs. The target was not identified accurately and, due to the deep fog cover, the extraction team was unable to modify mission parameters in a timely manner."

"What happened, then?" asked another man onscreen, whom Dr. Howard only recognized as a division leader. "According to your initial report, the other agents on your team were casualties of a firefight."

Hiroshi nodded. "Yes, sir. Due to the incorrect ID, my team attempted to take the wrong woman. When bystanders intervened, a full team escape seemed impossible. One agent was shot and killed by an unknown man, and I was forced to take out the other after he failed to follow a retreat order." Hiroshi shrugged slightly. "It was an unavoidable loss. He would have been a security risk if left in police custody."

"So _you_ are the only one who came out alive?" asked another man from one of the screens. "Funny, that doesn't sound like something your father would find honorable--"

"My father's only concern is a continued business arrangement with your organization," Hiroshi replied, his light accent clipped. "Do not presume to understand what the concept of _honor_ means to my family."

"Young Takada did nothing wrong in this situation," Faison interrupted casually. "In fact, he may have made it possible to avoid mistakes like this in the future."

Dr. van der Meer spoke up. "So...does this mean that Dr. Scorpio is _not_ on her way to the lab?" He leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his blond hair. "Because if you want this thing to get done, we're going to need another medical genius on the team."

"I thought that was why we paid _you_ an obscene amount of money, Doctor," Faison remarked. "With you and Dr. Howard heading up the research and development of the drug, I had hoped to have begun administration some time ago."

"With all due respect, Cesar," Dr. Howard finally said, tired of the meeting already, "We're not the ones who thought contracting out to Crylium Industries was the most efficient means of development." She raised a contemptuous eyebrow at the other men on the screens. "Our genius, for which you do pay quite handsomely, is only good for so much without an appropriately sized staff and laboratory."

Faison nodded, smiling slightly at Dr. Howard's arrogant but accurate assessment of the situation. "Indeed. You make a fair point, Doctor. Which is why all funding was channeled directly back to your project in the wake of Crylium's utter failure, as well as why I am currently ensuring that Dr. Robin Scorpio will be joining you shortly."

Dr. Howard smiled, only slightly more genuinely than Faison had. "Thank you, Cesar," she said demurely. "I've read her work, and I must say, I'm intrigued by the idea of working with her."

"Yes," Faison replied fondly. "She is at the forefront of her field."

"She's also got quite a front of her own," Dr. van der Meer snickered quietly.

"You will not be speaking about Dr. Scorpio in such a vulgar manner." Faison's words were quick and sharp, and his suddenly stony expression promised that he would personally ensure that such orders were carried out. "She is joining this project at _my_ leisure, and I always keep my investments secured." He raised an eyebrow at the nervous doctor, and was pleased that even through a television screen and several thousand miles away, his presence carried its appropriate weight. "Will there be any further problems?"

The other man shook his head.

Sighing, Faison waved a hand in dismissal, gesturing to the other men on the screens. "If there is nothing further, I need Takada to begin preparations for a new operation."

With nods, the other screens clicked off, leaving only Faison's image and the other members of the research team around the conference table.

"When can we be expecting Dr. Scorpio's arrival, Cesar?" Dr. Howard asked.

"Hopefully, no later than week's end, although it seems that there are some unexpected obstacles in our paths." He looked at the rest of the team. "Might I have a word alone with your project director?" he asked solicitously.

Sensing their dismissal, and quite eager to return to work, the members of the DVX research team quickly grabbed their files and exited the room, leaving only Dr. Howard and Faison on the communications line.

"What's so secretive that you can't speak in front of my team?" she asked.

Faison shook his head slightly. "Oh, nothing secretive, merely something of a more...personal nature than much of what we discuss in these meetings."

"I wasn't aware that any of us had personal lives left after the DVX bought our souls," Dr. Howard noted dryly.

"Perhaps," Faison chuckled. "But we did pay you quite well for the use of your soul."

"True," she conceded with a grin. "So, what's so important that I can't get back to work? This is, after all, the only project I can work on right now."

"Only because the American medical review boards couldn't stomach your genius." Faison allowed himself a genuine smile at the young woman sitting alone at the conference table. She had more than proven her worth to the organization and to him over the years. "No, I was intrigued because of something in your file. It appears that a young man from your past has recently taken to keeping Dr. Scorpio's company, and I would appreciate your insight into the matter."

Now Dr. Howard was intrigued. Leaning forward in her chair, she rested her arms on the table. "Who?" she asked curiously.

Faison smiled. In some ways, she could be so childlike in her impertinence. Not for the first time, Faison reflected on the other young woman who, once upon a time, should have been his daughter. "A Dr. Patrick Drake."

Her eyes widened and she inhaled sharply. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

"No." Faison shook his head. "He appears to be somehow tangled up in her life, although I'm still discovering just how much." He allowed his lead medical researcher a moment to digest the information before asking, "I was hoping you had a preference one way or the other as to what we should do with him if he gets in the way."

Shaking herself out of her shock, Dr. Howard forced herself to remain indifferent. "Well, I'd prefer it if you didn't give him a painful and bloody death, but I understand how these things can't he helped."

"Good," Faison nodded. "I was hoping that this would not become an issue between us. I do value your counsel, Dr. Howard."

She snorted. "You know, I have asked you repeatedly to call me Mel."

"And I have told _you_ repeatedly that I simply cannot take you seriously as a doctor if you insist on being called by such a boyish nickname."

She snorted again. "Is there anything else?"

"No," Faison said. "I shall keep you apprised of our progress in adding Dr. Scorpio to your team."

"Thank you."

The screen clicked off, leaving the woman alone in the empty room. Standing, Dr. Amelia Howard gathered her files, and allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts.

"Patrick Drake," she said aloud. "It's been a long time."


	16. Chapter 11 Part 1

It can't be said enough: I know absolutely _nothing_ about computers. This is all being _completely_ made up. Also: I don't care if real people wouldn't be able to do this at age eighteen. Soap opera! lalala...

**Chapter 11 - Part 1**

When Robin arrived at Kelly's, she found Bobby sitting at the back table, facing the door with his laptop screen facing away from any and all prying eyes.

"You know, I do have wireless internet in my apartment," she said, sliding into the seat across from him.

Bobby looked up and smiled. "Hi," he greeted. "You have wireless, but not a strong connection. Also, public places tend to have better firewalls. Liability, you know."

Robin didn't know. She had never been a huge technology junkie, except when something affected her research. New computer systems and imaging technologies were one thing, but high-speed internet and software programs were another. She had a suspicion, though, that Bobby _did_ know about such things.

"So," she said after a moment. "What was so important that you had to speak with me in person?"

Bobby nodded and motioned for Robin to pull her chair around next to him. "This'll go a lot faster if I can show you what I'm doing."

Confused, Robin nevertheless scooted her chair around the table. She looked out across the small diner and noticed it was fairly empty. Robin checked her watch; it was nearly 11:30 in the morning, and the few patrons seemed to be college kids, poring over thick textbooks and gulping down cheap food. Robin grimaced and rolled her eyes in remembrance. College had been _fun_.

She supposed now was the time when Maxie and Lucas would have been leaving classes; maybe Maxie would have met Jesse for an early lunch. Instead, she was holed up in her bedroom at the Scorpio house, with Georgie, Dillon, and Lucas having taken the day off from school to be with her. Robin's heart ached as she thought of her surrogate little sister; she would have to start planning Jesse's funeral, soon. She wondered if Mac would let Georgie miss a few days of school to help Maxie with the arrangements; Robin would do it, but she had a feeling that she would be very preoccupied with other life-and-death matters.

She frowned suddenly as another thought occurred to her. "You know, Bobby," she said, "Shouldn't you be in school? I mean, I can't imagine Aunt Tiffany putting up with you not going to college for _any_ reason."

"I got into MIT on a programming scholarship last fall," he replied, typing furiously on his keyboard, making lines of text appear that meant nothing to Robin. "But I withdrew from this semester after I realized my parents were missing."

She nodded in sympathy. "Programming?"

He nodded, still typing. "Computers. Software, mostly. I like the intellectual challenge, and I'm not one for manual labor."

"I'm not sure the people who build computers would say that's what they do."

Bobby shrugged. "Well, it's kinda like you and Dr. Drake." Off Robin's questioning look, he explained, "You know, you do research to understand the problems and fix them from the inside-out, and he just slices and dices and makes julienne patients?"

"Bobby!" Robin cried, shocked by his audacity.

"You know you think it sometimes, too," he smirked. "Your work rewrites the body's systems; his just attaches or detaches whatever should or shouldn't be there. You and I are the real geniuses, Scorpio."

Robin laughed. "Arrogant little thing, aren't you?" She gave a half-grin.

"You've met my parents," Bobby said, shrugging. "You expected different?"

Shaking her head, Robin replied, "No. So what's an arrogant computer genius with a degree from the best school in the world go for these days?"

"My dad thinks this means I'll go to work for the Bureau in High-Tech Ops after graduation, and my mom thinks I'll be the next Bill Gates and create my own little computer empire."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think?"

Bobby smirked and shrugged. "Mostly I think I'll make a lot of money selling security patches to Big Business."

They laughed for a moment, before Robin forced herself to sober. As much as she enjoyed getting to know the boy who should have been like a little brother to her, she was all too aware that there were more important things at stake.

"All right, Bobby," she said seriously. "What's going on?"

* * *

Patrick had lost his faith in a higher power when his mom died, but at that particular moment he was absolutely convinced that there was a Hell. 

"Why would Robert ask you how many women you've slept with?" Anna frowned. "Certainly a young man's allowed a social life?"

"Ah, but the young doctor here hasn't just had a _social life_," Robert grimaced. "He's had a social life fit for ten men."

Patrick said nothing. He couldn't deny that.

Anna looked from Robert to Patrick. "Yes, but..."

"You are not good for my daughter," Robert said softly to Patrick. "You and I both know your past. You will hurt her, and you know this. She deserves better than you."

Patrick had learned enough about Robin in the last few days, seen enough of her heart to know that she was a better person than him. Probably somewhere deep down, in some dark corner of his mind untouched by his ego, he had always know that. That Robin could be a brilliant doctor while still being compassionate towards her patients was a balance that Patrick had never achieved. That she could be beaten up by love and life and still get up and walk on was a skill that he had never mastered. When he had been faced with the most intense grief of his life -- the death of his mother and the collapse of his father -- Patrick had shut down emotionally.

He should have fought through it, he should have struggled to bring his father back, to hold on to whatever little family and love he had left. Instead, Patrick had followed his father's example; where Noah had drowned his sorrows in a bottle, Patrick had drowned them in women. It was one thing to get bored easily; it was another thing entirely to never even allow the boredom to settle in. Patrick had moved on, jumping from case to case and woman to woman; nothing ever stayed the same for long enough to matter, and Patrick made sure that change was the one constant in his life.

"Maybe you're right," Patrick said simply.

He chose his path; Robin didn't. She had changes thrust upon her, had physical and emotional upheavals as _her_ constant in life when all she seemed to want was calm; she wanted stability. Patrick had grown up with stability and calm, and once it was gone, he had made sure never to seek it out again, for fear that it wouldn't last. Robin, it seemed, had only grown up with _in_stability and chaos, and had spent her entire life searching for something to settle down with. He understood that, now.

They were nothing alike, and they had everything in common. Patrick thought the universe had a sick sense of humor.

Returning Robert's glare, Patrick knew what he wanted. He had no idea what tomorrow would bring, or what next month, next _year_ would be like, but he didn't care anymore. It was terrifying and exhilarating and somehow _necessary_ all at once. Patrick blamed Robin for that. Seeking out the stability of his youth scared him now; he had long since learned to live without it. But he still wanted it, wanted some semblance of it. Robin sought out the same thing, but he had also seen her last night. She had been too good, too used to that world of constant change to ever be truly happy with stillness.

Maybe they were supposed to meet halfway. Maybe that crazy whirlwind of a woman was supposed to have crash-landed in his life. She shook up his already shaken world, and settled him down at the same time. Patrick hadn't thought any woman could do that. He had a sneaking suspicion that a life with Robin in it would never be dull, even in the moments of silence.

Patrick had no idea what would happen tomorrow, and he was fairly certain that he and Robin would always clash as much as they came together. But damn if it wouldn't be one hell of a ride.

"Maybe you're right," Patrick repeated, firm in his stance now. "Maybe I'm not good for Robin. In fact, I'm fairly certain that I'll hurt her." He set his jaw at that thought, but shrugged in acceptance. "But in all fairness, she'll probably hurt me, too."

"Now just a minute," Robert interrupts.

Anna held up a hand to silence him, and looked at Patrick. He couldn't tell what the expression on her face meant, and noted that he often had the same problem with Robin. He was pretty sure he wanted to change that.

Nodding his head in thanks to Anna's interference, Patrick continued. "You seem to be forgetting one key fact: Robin is an adult, and what's more than that, she's _human_. She's spent a lifetime on her own, and even though I don't know most of the details--"

"Or any," Robert sniped.

"--I _do_ know that she gives as good as she gets." Patrick looked at Robin's parents, and saw how much of them was in her. "I've made mistakes. So has she. It's what people _do_." He thought back to Robin's words the other day, when he had sent everything to hell in a hand basket. Maybe something good had come from that, after all. "People screw up, they apologize, and then they move on."

Patrick thought he finally understood why Robin had been so upset with him. It wasn't because she had jumped to conclusions, or because he had made her apologize in front of Carly; it was because he hadn't been willing to just put the past behind him and move on. That was the story of Robin's life, and it was a lesson that Patrick never let himself learn.

_"Forgiving your father would be a good start."_

The words she had said when they all thought the virus would kill her rung true, now. He understood what she was trying to tell him, what he was too stubborn and arrogant to understand then. The past was just that: _the past_. It snuck up on you and never left you alone, but nothing could ever change what had _already happened_; it was what people did afterwards that mattered. Patrick thought that was why Robin would always be a better person than him. She could treat patients with compassion because whether her treatments worked or not, once administered, all that was left was to treat them with dignity and grace; she had always understood that. She could stand and face her worst nightmare, a man who had destroyed her world, and do so while containing the uproar her family created when she revealed her suspicions. Robin _was_ dignity and grace, personified. She was better than him.

"But for some reason," Patrick said, not flinching from Robert and Anna's intense stares, "She still wants to be with me." He chuckled softly. Maybe there was hope for him, after all. "Apparently, it's a human thing."

* * *

"Seriously," Robin said, pulling the conversation back to the reason she came. "You said you had something urgent and super-secret to show me?" 

Bobby's laughter immediately ceased and he ran a nervous hand through his sandy colored hair. "Yeah. See, um...this is where it gets funny..."

"Like 'haha' funny, or like 'I'm-locked-out-of-my-apartment-at-four-AM' funny?" Robin asked slowly.

"Um...actually, it's more like 'please-don't-kill-me' funny."

Robin dropped her head to her chest and took several deep breaths. "Let's assume, for the moment, that I'm not the homicidal type."

"See, here's what happened," Bobby said quickly. "I've always been surrounded by high-tech stuff. Between my dad and my mom, there was always a need for computers and faxes, and cell phones and really, _really_ good security systems."

Robin nodded. That sounded familiar enough.

"So, um, I always had my hands on electronic things, and I took a real strong liking to computers, and my parents had no problems with that." He continued explaining, and started tapping the edge of his keyboard. The repetitive clacking of the keys had always been soothing. "Anyway, they got me computers, always better and faster, and as the technology improved, so did my interest."

"Right," Robin replied. "So you got pretty good with computers?"

"Eh heh..." Bobby laughed anxiously. "Here's where it gets funny. I got _really_ good with computers, and I started playing around with software. My parents encouraged it, and bought me whatever I asked for, whatever systems I said I needed, and eventually I, um..."

"_Bobby_."

"Right. I learned software programming, and started playing around in the actual systems I had. You know, rewriting code and whatnot." Off Robin's confused stare, Bobby hastened to explain better. "Basically, different computer codes all translate back to the same basic language that tells your computer what to do when you type things on your keyboard, and that tells your computer how and where to store information. Various codes all come together to make your computer work."

"Ah, right."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I started rewriting the programs on my computers, just playing around to see what I could do. And, um...okay, I get that arrogance isn't an attractive trait in anybody, but you know my parents, you know it would've been impossible for me to _not_ want to test the boundaries and break the rules--"

"Bobby," Robin interrupted. "What did you do?"

"One day I thought it would be fun to try and break into my mom's email account. I wrote my own password cipher, and used it to open her files. Then I tried my dad's email."

Robin gasped. "You did _what_?"

Bobby waved his hands in defense. "It wasn't like that! I didn't read anything, I just wanted to know that I _could_. I mean, my dad's email program had much heavier security than my mom's." He saw Robin was getting impatient, so he continued. "I got better. I taught myself how to break into a couple of shipping databases -- you know, I'd want to order stuff and not pay? Not because I didn't _want_ to pay, I mean, just to see if I could."

"I believe what you're describing is called _robbery_," Robin chided.

"I'd return the stuff!" Bobby insisted. "After that...I started looking for bigger and more challenging targets."

Robin didn't like the feeling she was getting. "Bigger and more challenging, _how_?"

"...In case you're ever questioned by the police, it's probably best if I don't tell you."

Robin once again forced herself to take deep, calming breaths. Propping her head up on her arms, she surmised, "So you're what, a hacker?"

Bobby nodded. "And I got damn good, too. Not _major_ league or anything, but if I knew the systems and knew what I was looking for, I could break into just about any mainframe. After I got that weird phone call from Dad, I started digging."

"Digging into what--" The reality of what Bobby was saying hit Robin like a punch in the stomach. "_Oh my God_!" she hissed, ducking her head into her hands. "You _hacked_ the World Security Bureau's computer systems?!"

"It's not like it was hard!" Bobby hastily defended himself.

Robin gave a strangled laugh. "We don't need to worry about what Faison is doing, because the WSB is going to _assassinate us_!"

"You know, I really did them a favor by finding their security holes."

"Would you stop talking about breaking into the largest intelligence agency in the world?" Robin begged.

"You are absolutely _not_ seeing the humor in the situation," Bobby said, forcing himself to calm down. "Look, now that you know _how_ I got this, I can show you the information I found."

Robin sat up and forced her breathing to return to normal, although she wasn't having much success. "All right. What did you find?"


	17. Chapter 11 Part 2

I know it may seem like I'm reiterating a lot of information, but I'm trying to show what out Intrepid (S)heroes know, and what they only think they know. Intelligence is a tough business, even for the good guys...**  
**

**Chapter 11 - Part 2**

"Explain the part about Faison being alive again."

Patrick sighed in exasperation at Robert, who was grilling him for every last detail of what had transpired in the previous forty-eight hours. "Are you _really_ that slow?"

"Listen, kid--"

"_Robert_." When Anna used that tone, both Robert and Patrick immediately shut up. She had been fairly silent during Patrick's recounting, taking everything in with no discernible change in expression. The only reason Robert knew she was scared was by the subtle change in her breathing; it was slightly faster than normal, but only someone who knew her intimately well would notice it. Her breathing had always been her tell.

Patrick drummed his fingers on the conference room table, took a deep breath, and spoke. "Look, I don't know all the details; I'm not all that well-versed in the back story. What I _do_ know is that Robin thinks the encephalitis outbreak was targeted at Port Charles, and that Luke was specifically chosen to bring it back here. She thinks Bobby's parents being missing ties everything together." Patrick ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, she focused on what the kid's father said to him the last time they spoke."

"Which was...?" Robert pressed.

"Which was," Patrick replied, "Something about running into an old friend."

Anna frowned. "Well, that doesn't make sense," she said. "I mean, I do think something happened to them, but why would Robin latch onto that as a clue?"

"Because of the message in the book," Patrick answered. Well, he was about to lower even further in Robin's parent's eyes.

"What book?" Robert asked slowly.

"Ah...For reasons I won't discuss with you, I went into Manhattan last weekend to buy Robin an apology gift. I though she would enjoy a first edition copy of something, so I went to this little shop I had heard of." Patrick forced himself to make eye contact with Robert and Anna; at the very least, he could own up to his errors. "I didn't know it at the time, but the owner of the shop very accurately matched the description of this Faison guy, and he personally picked out the book I ended up giving Robin."

"Which was..." Robert growled, losing his patience.

Patrick swallowed hard. "The first-ever published copy of _The Crystalline Conspiracy_, by--"

"_Dammit_!" Robert bellowed, jumping out of his seat and glaring at Patrick. "Tell me you weren't stupid enough to tell a complete stranger anything about Robin!"

Patrick jumped out of his chair as well. "Look, I didn't know, okay? It's not like Robin was very forthcoming about all the insanity you subjected her to when you were still 'alive!'" Patrick figured Robin wasn't around to see him make air-quotes. "I had no way of knowing that I wasn't just talking to some slightly crazy old bookseller." He placed his hands on his hips and stared down Robert. "I also didn't know that he wrote the note in the book himself."

Robert seethed. "_What. Note_?"

"It was something about finding old friends again."

Anna gasped and covered her mouth. "That sounds just like what Bobby said Sean said!"

Patrick nodded. "That was what tipped her off."

Before Anna could reply, Robert had rounded the table and grabbed Patrick by his lab coat, shoving him back against the wooden surface. Patrick grunted as he hit the wood, and Anna jumped from her seat and ran to Robert to pull him off.

"How could you have _possibly_ been so incompetent!" Robert shouted in Patrick's face, impervious to Anna's attempts at loosening his hold on the doctor.

"You know, I'm getting really sick of you people blaming me for this!" Patrick shouted back, struggling against Robert's enraged grip. "Robin said it herself: this guy would have found her with or without me!"

"Robert, stop!" Anna cried, yanking on her husband's arm. Finally, Anna heaved a sigh and jabbed Robert in the left side, just below his ribcage. Robert grunted in pain and released his grip on Patrick, instinctively curling his body to protect the old injury from further damage. "Are you going to behave like a civilized human being, now?" Ana asked cautiously.

He nodded, and backed away from the table. Patrick pulled himself up and rubbed at his chest, where Robert had kept a firm hold. He glared at the older man, now quite certain that he didn't like Robin's father. "You think I haven't already blamed myself for this?" he said, voice low. "I have been, from the moment Robin explained all this to me. But you know what?" He frowned contemptuously at Robert. "Robin chewed me out for being selfish. And she's right. This isn't about me, it's about her. And I don't really care what you think of me, I _am_ going to help Robin however I can."

"You are no good for my daughter," Robert repeated, still rubbing at his side. "She doesn't exactly have a strong track record of picking male companions who are..._healthy_ for her."

Patrick shrugged, refusing to show his anger at being compared to Jason Morgan. "It's her choice, and it seems that she's chosen me."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Yes, it bloody well _is_ Robin's choice, and you two Neanderthals need to focus on what's important here." She looked from Robert to Patrick, making sure they were paying attention to her. "There's a connection somewhere that we're missing. Faison is alive, and he wants Robin." Anna's mouth twisted as she said the words. "That horrible epidemic was manmade, and targeted for Port Charles, and now Sean and Tiffany are missing." She looked pointedly at Robert. "You _do_ know that Sean is one of the Bureau's chiefs now, don't you?"

"_Yes_," Robert sniped.

"What about what happened to Sam McCall last night?" Patrick asked quietly. "Jason barged in here earlier, demanding to know why the people who grabbed Sam seemed to think they were kidnapping a Scorpio."

Robert cursed. "So, now we _know_ they want Robin for something."

"Yes, but what?" Anna murmured, worry coloring her face as she thought of the danger her daughter was in. "Is she leverage? Is this Faison's revenge for you being alive, Robert?"

"I don't know," Robert replied softly. "He always had it in for me because of you."

"Robin said the guy was obsessed with you," he looked at Anna, "and with herself."

Anna nodded. "Yes," she swallowed bitterly. "We were the family he was _supposed_ to have."

"So where does this leave us?" Patrick asked.

Robert and Anna exchanged concerned looks. "I don't know," Robert finally said. Turning to Anna, he took her hand and squeezed it gently. "But nothing will stop us from figuring it out."

The Scorpios looked back towards Patrick, silently asking him if he was in agreement with them. They all knew there would be no escaping for him once Patrick formally aligned himself with their family.

He nodded, joining them without words; he wasn't abandoning Robin now. Patrick already knew the risks that accompanied her. He had been certain that those risk, however, were going to be of the sexual kind. It was funny, sometimes, how life worked out.

Patrick was _definitely_ never calling Robin boring again.

* * *

Even though the evidence was displayed on the screen before her, Robin still couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"Explain it again," she demanded.

Bobby sighed, scrolling up-screen to the beginning of one of several damning documents. "It looks like the WSB was tracking this thing for a while, several months at the least." He pointed to the memo onscreen that described the timeline of the investigation. "According to this, a significant monetary transfer occurred just _days_ before Luke returned to Port Charles. And this," he pointed to another chart on the screen, "Indicates that the land where the labs were found was purchased around the same time."

"I don't believe it," Robin said, shaking her head. The implications were too much...

"Robin," he replied grimly. "There's no other explanation. Crylium wasn't there until _after_ Luke showed up." He turned to Robin, his expression dark. "It was a cover. The labs were never real, and Crylium Industries were never really _in_ the Markham Islands."

Robin nodded dully. Everything Bobby was saying confirmed the suspicions she hadn't shared with anyone else. Crylium hadn't been developing the virus in the Markham Islands; it was just conveniently made to look that way for the inevitable snoopers who came. And since it now looked like Luke really _was_ supposed to carry the virus back to Port Charles, it stood to reason that whomever had set up the fake labs in the first place was convinced that civilians from the town would be the ones to investigate. Robin wanted to kick herself. They had all been expertly played.

"Is there any way to tell where development was taking place before this?" she asked, eyes locked determinedly on the computer screen.

Shrugging half-heartedly, Bobby replied, "That's the thing. According to the WSB documents, they couldn't trace the origins of this thing beyond Crylium. According to this financial report," he indicated to another window, "A hefty sum of money was turned over to Crylium's shareholders, who in turn passed the resources along to their R and D team." Bobby hissed in frustration. "There's nothing here that indicates _where_ the money came from, or whether the research was begun from scratch, or based on previous work."

Robin sighed. "You think the research was begun somewhere else and then passed on to Crylium." She didn't need to ask; they both knew that was what happened.

"It would explain why they want you."

"So the DVX was behind the original research and, what?" she asked, furrowing her brow. "They paid Crylium to take it the rest of the way?"

Bobby snorted in disgust. "More likely they outsourced. Everybody outsources these days, even Agency of Evil, apparently."

"It explains the money trail," Robin agreed. "But what was the point of the encephalitis? I mean, they obviously weren't ready to let it loose on people if they still needed to kidnap Lucky to test the antidote."

They looked at the computer screen where Bobby had pulled up another file, a copy of an intercepted fax. "That's why this makes me nervous." He pointed to a single line, hidden in the middle of a long paragraph describing the transfer of funds and personnel from an unidentified origin to Crylium. "It's not much, but I think the Bureau knows more about this than what I was able to get." Bobby shifted nervously in his seat, and looked at Robin. "According to that, part of the funding was for an improved 'delivery system.'"

_Delivery system_. The words rang in Robin's mind as she tried to process what she was learning. A delivery system meant an effective carrier for something. But Luke had been the carrier for the virus. She paled suddenly. Unless...

"The virus," Robin breathed. "It was manmade, it was manufactured; we knew that. But if that means what I think it does..." her voice trailed off as she thought about the implications of what she was reading. "The encephalitis spread like wildfire, even more so than the normal strain of the disease." Her eyes widened. "Luke wasn't the carrier for the virus, the _virus_ _itself_ was supposed to be the carrier for something. It was supposed to do something else."

"Yeah, but what?" Bobby frowned. "This doesn't make any sense, and I'm willing to bet that finding out more about the virus is the key to everything."

Robin shuddered. "Whatever it was, it wasn't successful," she said grimly. "Or else Faison wouldn't still be gunning for Port Charles."

"Then they're going to try again," Bobby frowned. "And if they're after you, my guess is it's because they want you to work on whatever the virus was _supposed_ to do."

"So Faison wants me for what, neurological research?"

"Makes sense," Bobby said. "You're specialty is brain damage and memory research, you're at the forefront of your field, and whatever the DVX just _happens_ to be developing attacks the brain? Way more than a coincidence."

"But how do your parents fit into all of this?" Robin asked quietly.

Bobby shook his head sadly, frustration darkening his face. "I don't know. Unless my dad knew something..."

Robin slumped down in her seat and ran her hands over her face in frustration. "And this was all the information you were able to get?" she asked wearily.

Bobby nodded. "When I got into the WSB systems, part of what I had to do was temporarily disable the firewalls protecting these files. I got what I could, but I was being tracked, and had to bolt from the mainframe before they could trace me. If I want to go back in and find more, I'd need to continually stabilize the firewalls externally, so that anybody else watching thinks that their security is still in place."

"And what would you need to make that happen?" Robin asked.

"I'd need someone else on another computer connected to my systems, watching everything I was doing and constantly adjusting the WSB's server protections to match my moves. I'd need a second hacker."

"Hey."

Robin and Bobby looked up and saw Lulu Spencer standing next to their table, a laptop bag strung over her shoulders. She glanced at Bobby's computer screen and smiled.

"Maybe I can help you with that."


	18. Chapter 12

Wow, I've been trying to post this for _days_. Apparently, FFN doesn't like me.

And **ndhbfan**, I'm very disturbed by some of your guesses about the plot. Have you been reading my outline notes? A lot of your questions will go deliberately unanswered until the sequel (assuming I ever finish this fic), though, so I'm afriad you'll have to be happy to continue guessing. :)

**Chapter 12**

_"I'd need someone else on another computer connected to my systems, watching everything I was doing and constantly adjusting the WSB's server protections to match my moves. I'd need a second hacker."_

_"Hey."_

_Robin and Bobby looked up and saw Lulu Spencer standing next to their table, a laptop bag strung over her shoulders. She glanced at Bobby's computer screen and smiled._

_"Maybe I can help you with that."_

Bobby looked up warily at Lulu. "Help with what, exactly?"

Lulu rolled her eyes and dropped into a seat across from Robin. "I heard what you were saying about needing a second person working the firewalls for something." Off their surprised looks, she laughed. "It's not like you guys were speaking quietly or anything." She smirked at Bobby. "Way to be stealthy there, Spy Baby."

"What did you call me?" Bobby ground out.

Lulu laughed again. "It suits you."

Robin broke in between them before their tiff could escalate. "How're you doing with all this, Lulu?" she asked gently.

"I'm fine." Lulu brushed off Robin's concern. "It wasn't _my_ boyfriend who died last night. And my dad was actually down at the police station for most of last night with Lucky and Mac. I guess he didn't trust them to know what they were looking for." She snorted at the irony.

"You're dad spent the night at the PCPD?" Robin blinked. "Willingly?"

Lulu shrugged.

"Ignoring this lovely family bonding moment," Bobby groused, earning a surprised look from Robin and an angry glare from Lulu, "Can we get back to the reason you interrupted a _private_ conversation about _very_ sensitive materials?"

"If it was _private_," Lulu mimicked, "You wouldn't have been talking about it in public. And come to think of it, what kind of _idiot_ talks about WSB files in the middle of a diner?"

Bobby started. "How the hell do you know what we were talking about?"

"Oh, for crying out loud," Lulu sighed. She reached around the computer and pointed at the document on the screen, clearly displaying the WSB's letterhead. "You kinda suck at the whole secret agent thing. You sure you're Sean Donoley's kid?"

"What the _hell_--"

"Guys!" Robin hissed, shutting Bobby and Lulu up. "Can we maybe _not_ do this here?"

Lulu nodded. "Fine by me. I just came over to offer my help, and this jerk jumps all over me--"

"Do you even know what we're talking about?" Bobby snapped.

Narrowing her eyes, Lulu spat back, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do!" She waved her hand at the laptop. "I heard you say you needed another hacker for something, someone to watch the security settings on something while you went in and did something else." She raised an eyebrow. "How'd I do?"

Bobby fairly pouted. "Not bad," he admitted grudgingly. "But it doesn't mean you can help us."

"Lulu," Robin interjected, trying desperately not to live through the very surreal moment of Robin and Patrick: Redux. "You're involved in this, too. What makes you say you could help us get back into the WSB mainframe?"

"Robin!"

"Oh, give it a rest, Bobby!" Robin muttered. "She's right; we're not stealthy."

Lulu giggled. Getting under Bobby Donoley's skin was fun; she might have even found one of those extracurricular activities that Tracy was always badgering her to get involved with. "Dude," she laughed at Bobby. "You're face is really red right now."

Bobby didn't say anything, but grumbled several incoherent things under his breath.

Robin pinched the bridge of her nose. She should have stayed with her parents and Patrick; at least then, she wouldn't have to be the mature one. No, she amended to herself, she would _still _have had to be the mature one in that group. "Okay, Lulu," she said. "What can you do?"

"What do you actually need?" she asked.

Robin looked at Bobby, arching an eyebrow that clearly directed him to explain things.

"Right," Bobby sighed. "I need to get back into the WSB's secure systems to look for more information about the virus." He paused when Lulu's face darkened; he wondered what had happened to her during the epidemic. "The last time I went in, though, I had to take dismantle some of the firewall protections, and that tipped off whoever was watching that someone was in their files. I had to leave before they could trace me." Bobby looked pointedly at Lulu. "What I _need_ is for someone else to go in with me, piggyback on my systems, and continually adjust the security settings internally, so it doesn't look like anyone is in their programs." He cocked an eyebrow. "Think you can do all that?"

"Yes," Lulu replied simply. Off Bobby's disbelieving snort, she rolled her eyes and grabbed her own laptop from her bag. "Fine, we'll do this the hard way."

Lulu powered up her computer and began typing furiously, concentrating on something that appeared on her screen. Robin had no idea what she was witnessing, so she stole a glance at Bobby. His brow was furrowed, and it almost looked like he was watching the actual _keys_ she was pressing. Evidently, Bobby had some idea of what Lulu was doing, because his eyes widened suddenly, and he gaped at her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed, although his voice held the tiniest trace of awe at what he was watching.

"I'm breaking into your computer," Lulu muttered, still concentrating. "Explain all the Rick Springfield music in your iTunes. Actually, on second thought, don't."

"He is a perfectly respectable musician!" Bobby announced indignantly.

"Wasn't he on that soap opera back in the 80s?" Lulu replied lightly.

Bobby's glance shifted to the side. "It was a...lapse. He's still a great singer!"

Lulu snickered quietly, and Robin found herself silently agreeing. The guy _was_ a little too Adult Rock for her taste. Finally, Lulu smiled and looked up at Robin and Bobby. "So, tough guy, how'd I do?"

"I'm...impressed," Bobby grudgingly admitted. "How'd you get through my firewalls? I have double protection and an automatic worm that hits any user who tries to get through." He looked at her curiously; he genuinely hadn't expected her to get through his security.

"It wasn't that difficult," Lulu said, forcing herself to shrug off his expression. "I needed _something_ to occupy my time back when I was living with Grandma Lesley, and Nikolas never questioned why I was always asking for new computer equipment for my birthdays and holidays and stuff." She shrugged, and then smirked. "Once I went to live with my Step-monster, I learned how to break into her bank accounts and her business files. Quartermaine security is actually pretty good, so I've been going up against that for a while, now. Tracy knows I'm taking money from her somehow, but she can't prove where it's going or how I'm getting it."

"Thieves," Robin muttered, rubbing her forehead. "The whole lot of you are thieves."

"You're one of us, too," Bobby reminded her.

"Can we get back to me?" Lulu waved at them.

Bobby continued to regard her skeptically. "So you basically just know how to break through bank security?" he scoffed. "That's not very impressive."

"Well, considering I was able to learn _way_ more about your personal habits than I _ever_ wanted to know," she returned, "I'm either really good or you really suck." Lulu smiled wickedly at Bobby. "Either way, I win."

"Fine!" Bobby shouted quickly. "Jeez, you Spencers sure are a brag-a-lot bunch."

"Only 'cause there's so much to brag about."

"In the name of everything holy, make it stop," Robin said to herself.

"Look," Lulu sighed. "The entire Quartermaine grounds are set up for remote terminal access, since none of them trust each other enough to actually do business in the same rooms together. Just come back there with me, and we can try to work this thing."

Robin closed her eyes against the topic of discussion. "This is all just a fancy way of describing high-tech breaking-and-entering. You're also probably violating about fifteen international security laws."

Bobby looked at her. "Oh, way more than fifteen."

"Just making sure you're aware of it." Robin's cell phone buzzed, and she pulled it from her purse to see who was calling. She couldn't control the smile on her face when she saw it was Patrick.

Lulu and Bobby looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "And with that," he said dryly, "We're leaving."

Robin rolled her eyes in return, flipping open her phone. "Yes, because God forbid anyone in our families should exhibit a little emotional maturity." She pressed the 'talk' button and greeted Patrick. "Hey."

_"I am _so _getting revenge for this."_

Lulu was already putting her laptop away. "C'mon, Spy Baby. Let's go live up to the family names."

"Stop calling me that!" Bobby sniped.

"I repeat, I think it suits you."

"I can think of a few names to call _you_," Bobby retorted.

_"Ah, I hear the dulcet tones of the Child From Hell."_

"Patrick!" Robin laughed, looking at Bobby.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Sure, don't let a nefarious plot to take over the world get in the way of Dr. Drake's booty call."

"Bobby!"

_"Tell the kid to start running."_

Robin pulled the phone away from her ear. "Patrick says to stuff it."

"Tell Patrick I'd me more afraid of him if I hadn't seen him get beaten up by Lucky Spencer last night."

Lulu snickered. "That was pretty awesome."

_"I hate every single member of your extended family right now."_

"Good-_bye_," Robin said pointedly to Bobby. "Tell me what you can find when you come home later, okay?"

Bobby nodded and followed Lulu out the door, their snarking continuing the entire way.

"Do you even have a car?" he asked.

"I...borrowed one of Tracy's," she replied shadily.

"If we're using 'borrowed' to mean 'stole' these days."

"Look, I'm hinting for Nikolas to buy me a 'Congratulations on Surviving Six Months With Your Father' present."

Robin watched them walk out the door and sighed, partly from frustration and partly from the absolute certainty that either Bobby or Lulu would be needing a place to hide the other's body soon. Deciding not to focus on them, she turned her attention back to her phone, where she could still hear Patrick breathing, waiting for her. "Hey," Robin said again, smiling softly.

_"Hey yourself. You so owe me for this."_

Robin laughed. "You and my parents didn't bond?"

_"Your father tried to kill me again. Your mother had to pull him off me."_

"There but for the grace of Anna go you," Robin teased.

_"You're a funny girl. Your father hates me and I can't tell how your mother feels about me."_

"Well, she didn't help my father try to kill you."

_"I'm dating a regular ball of sunshine."_

"Gotta look on the positive side of things," she replied cheerfully. She could _hear_ Patrick glaring at her. "Besides, she's so mad at my dad right now that she'll probably decide to like you just to spite him."

_"Oh, good. So once she forgives your father, there's no telling how she'll react to me."_

Robin snorted; she was not at all worried about Anna's feelings warming up any time soon. "You'll be fine."

_"None of this changes the fact that you owe me very, very big_. _And I fully intend to collect."_

Patrick's tone of voice sent a shiver jolting through Robin's body. Damn, what that man could do to her with just a few words... "Well," she said coyly -- when had she started acting coy? -- "Never let it be said that a Scorpio doesn't make good on their debts." She shivered again when Patrick chuckled.

_"Oh, you will be making good on this one, Scorpio."_

"What did you have in mind?" It just wasn't possible to be reduced to breathlessness less than a week into a relationship. It certainly wasn't possible that she wanted to skip about ten steps passed the emotional buildup and jump right into the physical resolution.

_"Hm. I think I want you to pay up by paying up on the _last _debt you owed me."_

Robin blinked. "Last debt?" She didn't remember owing Patrick for anything. She would _remember_ if she owed him something. Patrick's silky voice was only too glad to explain his thinking.

_"You owe me a home-cooked meal at your apartment."_

Robin flushed at his words. It seemed like so long ago already that she had misinterpreted that stupid phone call. Though she hated it, she couldn't stop the thought that _she_ had set the recent chain of events in motion from crossing her mind. Robin knew it was silly; she _knew_ that Faison had set his sights on Port Charles long before that disastrous date, and yet there was still some part of her that wondered if Faison might not have found her if Patrick hadn't been prompted to go searching for an apology gift. Robin had tried to protect herself from a perceived hurt which had prompted Patrick to act like an ass -- not, she reminded herself, that he ever needed any help from her for that -- and insist on a publicly humiliating apology from her, which in turn had prompted _her_ to give him the cold shoulder, which brought them back to Patrick's own apology. That stupid book! There were times when, quite simply, Robin wanted to kick herself.

_"Robin? You still there?"_

Robin snapped out of her self-deprecating thoughts. "What?" She asked quickly. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

_"Look, um...I get that things didn't exactly go the way we'd planned the last time we tried this, so if you don't want to--"_

"No! No, it's fine." Robin smiled to herself. "I was actually just thinking that at least things couldn't be any worse than last time."

_"You mean when you ambushed me and accused me of betting $100 that I could bed the HIV-positive chick?"_

Even thought Patrick couldn't see her, she had the good grace to blush. "Yes," she replied. "_That_."

_"You know, aren't you not supposed to say things like 'It can't get any worse,' because that pretty much guarantees that things _will _get worse?"_

"That really only happens in the movies."

_"I hate to break it to you, baby, but this entire week has been straight out of Hollywood. Actually, I don't think I could sell something this insane to a movie studio."_

Robin sighed and closed her eyes, the stress of everything momentarily hitting her. "Patrick, how did the world go crazy in less than a week?" she asked softly.

_"From everything I've heard, this is just business as usual in Port Charles."_

It was very difficult for Robin to deny the point, so she decided to focus on something she _enjoyed_. Mainly, Patrick Drake. "So, what time should I be expecting you tonight?"

_"Are you coming back to work?"_

"No," Robin grimaced. "I'll just take half a day off. I need to come back and get some files, but after that..."

_"I've still got a surgery to scrub in for. Is four hours enough time for you to dazzle me with your culinary talents?"_

"You know, you should be careful how you say that word." Robin was completely certain that she was losing control of her mouth. The things Patrick made her say! Blaming him for that made her feel better about saying it, at least, especially when she heard his low voice rumble with laughter.

_"Dr. Scorpio, you are full of surprises!"_

Robin sank down in her seat in embarrassment. "I can't believe I just said that," she mumbled.

_"You're covering your eyes right now, aren't you?"_

She said nothing, but frowned as she removed her hand from her face. "So," she forced out, trying to regain control of the filter between her brain and her mouth, "I'll see you around seven?"

_"You can count on it, baby."_

Rolling her eyes was the only natural way Robin could respond to his remark; between Patrick's timbre and his inflection, she was amazed that she wasn't a little puddle of Robin-goo on the floor of Kelly's.

_"And don't roll your eyes at me. I realize I'm more man than you're used to, but you need to learn to accept attention."_

Well, at least she could always count on Patrick being his normal self to snap her out of any fog he might try to put her in. "Good-_bye_," Robin laughed.

_"Bye."_

Robin heard Patrick's phone click off, and she snapped her own phone shut. She figured she should head back to the hospital to grab her patient files, sign out for real -- as opposed to simply running out on an extended "lunch break" -- and make sure her parents were both still alive. It was getting easier to think of her father that way, and Robin wanted to make certain he stuck around long enough for her and Anna to extract their proper revenge. Really, she thought with a sniff, playing dead was an old tactic, even for Port Charles.

At least, Robin comforted herself, anything that was going to happen that day had already happened.

* * *

Ground Control was set up in mobile military bunkers, easily removed and hidden at a moment's notice, yet still spacious enough to allow for adequate operational preparations and monitoring. He was in the main tent, though not the largest; it was equipped with communications jammers, the highest caliber, completely preventing anyone who was so inclined from listening in on any conversations. The large metallic panels set up around the perimeter of the camp reflected any satellite signals back into Earth orbit, preventing anyone from even seeing that the camp was there. For such a large-scale operation that was stationed just a mile outside the Port Charles city limits, it was remarkably well-hidden.

It was just the way Cesar Faison liked things.

While no one could see or listen in, he had been monitoring the communications in Port Charles very closely, and he was delighted to learn that all his old favorites were returning to their stomping grounds. Like fools, they had lined up exactly where he wanted them. Donoley and his unfortunate wife, Faison's dear nemesis Robert Scorpio, and his own beloved Anna were all exactly where he wanted them to be. It would seem that he had been correct; the failed attempt on Robin Scorpio had produced some unexpected benefits. Things were actually moving along far ahead of schedule, which would no doubt help assuage the DVX leadership that they had been correct to bring Faison back into the fold.

Faison was staring a computer screen that was displaying a series of images taken during the failed kidnapping attempt. Though hidden from others' prying eyes, the DVX had spent a considerable sum of money buying the use of Russian spy satellites; only the so-called "Good Guys" ever thought a mafia-controlled government was a bad thing. This satellite use had allowed for close-range pictures to be taken of the agents involved, as well as the women in question. Through computer-generated cleanup, it was now painfully obvious to Faison that he was _not_ looking at Robin Scorpio.

Yet, there was something about the women in the images, something in her eyes. He had seen that sort of steel, with just a hint of craziness, in someone else's eyes before. But where...

"Sir?" Hiroshi Takada entered the tent and stood at attention.

"Ah, Takada," Faison looked up. "I trust things are progressing on schedule?"

Hiroshi nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir. Everything will be in place for tonight's operation."

"Excellent." Tilting his head slightly, Faison beckoned Hiroshi to approach his computer. "Tell me, Takada," he said. "Now that you can clearly see this woman, does she remind you of anyone?"

Looking at the screen, Hiroshi wondered what Faison was getting at. He knew that the woman wasn't Robin Scorpio, had known it since before attempting to grab her, but he had hoped that that would have been the end of the woman's involvement with this venture. "I can't say I've seen her before last night, sir," Hiroshi answered, as honestly as possible. He recalled what his old _sensei_ used to tell him: _"The key is to only ever say enough so that it is the truth. Then, they can never pin you for lying, and you live to fight another day. Also, the truth is usually the easiest thing to remember."_ Why was Faison so interested now?

"There's something," Faison murmured, more to himself than Hiroshi, "Something in her eyes. It's familiar, somehow."

Hiroshi chose not to say anything, and he forced his face to remain neutral. He had been glad the woman escaped; he would have had to kill her once in captivity, otherwise. He steeled himself once again; the mission was what mattered. "Sir?" he asked, waiting for Faison to dismiss him.

"Ah, yes, of course," he said distractedly, waving a hand. "Continue with preparations. I want to announce our presence in a manner they can't help but notice."

Hiroshi nodded, turned sharply, and walked towards the door of the bunker. He stopped when he heard Faison call his name once again. "Sir?" he asked without turning around.

"You shouldn't take the comments of that imbecile in Division 4 to heart," Faison said, assuming that was behind Hiroshi's stiffer-than-usual behavior. "I've dealt with your father on many occasions, and I believe you have handled yourself with a dignity befitting his son and heir since you came to our organization."

Hiroshi felt his blood boil at the mention of his father, but could not allow Faison to see how it affected him. Waiting a moment, Hiroshi left quickly once he was certain Faison didn't want anything else. He had to get out of there.

Walking swiftly to the edge of the camp, Hiroshi silently thanked the gods that he had enough power and seniority in this operation to be able to avoid any questions from other agents. He needed to cool down before relaying this new piece of information. The worst thing about this assignment was that he had to pretend to still be his father's honorable son and precious heir. Hiroshi hated pretending to keep up appearances, but it was necessary for the success of his mission. Still, even being called by the family name produced an instinctive recoiling in his stomach; at least his upbringing had been good for teaching him to keep his emotions off his face.

Hiroshi tool out his cell phone, the very same one that was tied into the DVX secure communications systems. Entering a code, Hiroshi sent out a jamming signal that piggybacked onto the data waves being sent from the camp to the satellites. He allowed himself a small smile; using the DVX's own channels to communicate secretly while in plain sight had a certain sort of poetic justice that could not be ignored. Once the jamming waves were successfully being transmitted, Hiroshi dialed the phone number he had come to know like his own birth date.

"Sir?" he said quietly into the phone. "We may have a new problem. It seems that Faison is focusing on the woman we tried to grab last night...No, I don't know what...No, sir..._No_, sir...he's fixating, like he does with...I didn't think anything would come of it...No, it was just convenient that she was in the wrong place at the wrong...Yes, sir...No, sir, I don't have a name...Yes, sir, I think this could be a _very_ big problem."

Having successfully relayed the new information, Hiroshi entered another code and wiped the phone number from the memory of the internal data chip, just like he had done every other time he dialed that number. Taking a deep breath, Hiroshi turned around and walked back into the base camp, prepared to continue with his mission.

He had an explosion to plan.


	19. Chapter 13

It's worth mentioning that the big reveal about the virus won't happen until Faison has finally cornered Robin, thus all the vagueness. Also, um, this is as close to smut as I've ever written. It's not even remotely explicit (to me, anyway), but I'm upping the rating just to be on the safe side.

**Chapter 13**

"You know," Patrick murmured into Robin's neck, "I can admit when I'm wrong. You do, in fact, know your way around a kitchen."

Robin smiled, slow and lazy. She wondered if Patrick even realized how often he had been admitting he was wrong over the last few days; then, as his lips trailed a slow line along the column of her throat, she shuddered and decided she didn't really care. "I take it," she gasped softly, "That dinner met your approval?"

Patrick chuckled. "The food was excellent." He brought his mouth up to meet hers for a moment, before skimming back along her jaw line. "It was a wholly satisfying meal, Dr. Scorpio." Patrick didn't give Robin a chance to respond; he cupped the back of her head and pulled her in for another long kiss.

A small moan escaped from the back of Robin's throat as she pressed herself deeper into Patrick's mouth. Gently sweeping her tongue against his, Robin could still faintly taste the basil and tomatoes of her home cooked lasagna; they hadn't even stayed at the table long enough for her to bring out the tiramisu. She felt a sudden surge of pleasure at knowledge that he couldn't keep his hands off her long enough to fully collect on his debt. Robin leaned against Patrick and wrapped her fingers through his hair, lightly toying with the short strands along his neck. She felt him shiver against her, and Robin could do nothing but smile into his mouth.

"If you were fully satisfied, Dr. Drake," Robin laughed breathlessly after several long moments, "Then what is all this?"

"I said the _food_ was satisfying," Patrick breathed against her skin, moving to nip gently at the patch just behind her ear. "I never said _I_ was satisfied."

Robin arched at the sensation, her hips shifting across his lap. "Well, then..." Her voice trailed off as she concentrated on Patrick's hands gliding smoothly along her ribcage. Really, she should _not_ be feeling like this after only two real dates (she refused to consider the not-a-date and the whole blackmailing thing). Although, she wondered happily as Patrick's lips moved against hers again, who needed rational thought when a gorgeous man was doing _that_ with his tongue?

"Robin," Patrick moaned quietly. Deepening the kiss, Patrick slid one hand down her side and gripped at her hips, pulling her flush against his own. Robin had shifted from merely sitting on his lap to partially straddling him not long after they had moved to the couch, and Patrick was beginning to find the minimal contact insufficient. Sliding his hands around Robin's tiny body, he gently cupped her head and back, and shifted to lay them both down.

She tensed momentarily, but found herself relaxing just as quickly. Robin was torn between her natural tendency to rationalize and analyze every step of her relationship with Patrick before jumping into bed with him, and the nearly overwhelming urge to rip open his shirt and bite his chest. In the haze of pleasure surging through her at Patrick's touches, Robin wondered just what it was that made her lose her higher brain functions around the man. If it had been purely hormonal, that would have been one thing, but Robin found herself attracted to his mind and spirit as well, something that had only ever happened twice in her life. Before, the physical and the emotional hadn't gotten so tangled up so quickly, and now Robin wondered if this was just what growing up felt like.

Pulling him down on top of her, Robin and Patrick sprawled out along the couch, their hands running over each other and their lips and tongues crashing together. It should have unnerved her how easily they fell into such a solid rhythm, but it didn't. Instead, she decided to go with her initial thought, and began unbuttoning Patrick's shirt. She shivered in delight when Patrick's hands moved alongside her breasts and returned the favor; she arched slightly to allow him easier access to the tie of her wrap shirt.

"Patrick," Robin gasped. The air shot from her lungs as he pushed the edge of her shirt further away from her breasts and skimmed his lips along the edge of her bra. She hissed sharply when he lightly suckled on the flesh he found there; too many years of ignoring her body's natural impulses were crashing down on her all at once. Robin had forgotten how sensitive her skin really was.

She leaned up slightly to help Patrick pull at her top; the wrap shirt was loose enough to allow him easy access to her upper body, and Robin was glad to rid herself of the barrier. Both she and Patrick gave breathless laughs as their hands met on the knot at the bottom of her shirt, and they both worked furiously to undo the binding. Patrick pushed the cloth out of his way.

_BANG_

"What the...?" Patrick muttered dully, his mind still focused on the sight of Robin and her untied shirt. When the sound did not repeat itself, Patrick took it as a good sign and leaned down to suck at the place where Robin's neck met her collar bone. He ran his tongue over the skin, and allowed himself a moment to revel in the steady pulse of blood that he felt; Patrick was learning that the very raw sensation of her being _alive_ was something not to be taken for granted. He grinned at Robin's ragged breathing and scraped his teeth just over the swell of her left breast.

_BANG_

Robin pushed Patrick's head away from her chest and sat up. "What _is_ that?" she asked him in confusion, struggling to catch her breath.

Patrick would have answered, but he was too distracted by her heaving chest.

_BANG_

"_Robin_!"

"Oh my God!" Robin yelped.

"What the hell is Jason Morgan doing banging on your door?" Patrick growled, stubbornly refusing to fully remove himself from his position across Robin's body.

She remained silent, and was relieved when no more banging occurred. She had just allowed Patrick to gently push her back down onto the couch when she heard the muffled voices from outside her apartment. Patrick was just nuzzling the valley between her breasts when she heard the soft clicking noises from her doorknob. She was caught utterly off-guard when her front door burst open.

"Robin, we need to talk, now!"

Robin shrieked and shoved Patrick off of her and onto the floor, instinctively recoiling from being caught in such a compromising position. She quickly grabbed at the front of her shirt to close it up. "Jason!" Robin cried, her eyes blazing at her former lover.

Patrick groaned from his position on the floor, several parts of his body now in pain. Pushing himself up, he decided to focus on the part that hurt the most: his pride. "What the _hell_ are you doing here, Morgan?"

Jason gaped at the scene before him, and had the momentary good grace to avert his eyes. He did not, however, deter from his original mission. "Robin," he said again, steadfastly looking at her kitchen table, "You need to tell me about what happened to Sam last night."

With a hiss, Patrick jumped up from the floor and looked at Robin. "This is ridiculous," he said. "I'm calling the police." He reached for the telephone on the end table, but paused when Jason took a step forward and shouted, "No!"

"Robin, I am so--" Sam's voice abruptly trailed off as she entered the apartment and took in the scene before her. Her eyes widened at Robin and Patrick's undone shirts and mussed hair, as well as the very prominent indication on Patrick's part about what had been happening just moments ago. A nervous bubble of laughter erupted from Sam's chest. "Oh my God!"

Patrick glared at both Sam and Jason, who was still not looking at him and Robin. Robin rolled her eyes and and retied her shirt. "Oh, good God, Jason! It's nothing you haven't seen before!" she huffed.

Patrick and Sam both frowned at that, but Jason took it as an indication that it was okay to approach. "Look, I wouldn't be bothering you if it wasn't important."

"How'd you get in here, anyway?" Patrick asked tightly. Upon seeing Jason hold up a set of lock-picking tools, Patrick ran a jerky hand through his hair and turned towards the table. "Where's the phone?" he muttered. "Civilized people don't just break into other people's apartments."

Jason moved to grab the phone away from Patrick, and Robin took the opportunity to move towards Sam. Robin figured that between Patrick's and Jason's posturing, she would have a good five or ten minutes of uninterrupted talking with the other woman.

"I need to talk to Robin," Jason said to Patrick.

"The world doesn't prostrate itself for you, Morgan," Patrick spat in reply. "Why did you even break in?"

"Robin wasn't answering the door," Jason said matter-of-factly.

Patrick ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "And you didn't take that as a sign that she wasn't home?"

"But she _was_," Jason shrugged.

Patrick gaped. "What the...That's not Earth logic!"

Robin ignored the two of them and pulled Sam over to the corner of her living room. Sam looked as embarrassed as Robin felt.

"I am so sorry about this," Sam said quickly. "I couldn't convince him not to come over here, so I figured it was better if I at least came to try and defuse any tenseness."

"Don't worry," Robin sighed resignedly. "I know very well how Jason can get sometimes."

Sam frowned slightly, but shrugged it off. "I swear, if I had had any idea..." Her voice trailed off as she surveyed the room. She smirked at the abandoned plates of food and the half-empty wine glasses still on the dining room table. "Couldn't even get through dinner, huh?" she laughed. "What happened to 'Patrick is evil, die Patrick, die?'"

Robin snorted. "I think I got over it."

"You _think_?"

"Well, nothing's ever for certain with this guy."

Sam laughed and looked over Robin's shoulder to where Patrick and Jason stood, each looking like they'd prefer nothing so much as to punch the other. Robin followed Sam's eyes and grew concerned; Patrick had been subjected to enough physical violence in the previous twenty-four hours. "I guess I should tell you what's going on," Robin said to Sam.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked cautiously. "I mean, before you said--"

"I know what I said," Robin nodded. "But I'm more concerned about what will happen if Jason tries to involve himself in this." Robin leveled a steely gaze at Sam. "I meant what I told you earlier. Things are going to get really ugly."

Sam nodded and walked over to Jason, putting a restraining hand on his arm. "Hey," she said gently. "Let's sit down and let Robin explain what's going on."

Patrick swore. "Robin, you don't owe this guy anything," he frowned. "Tell Sam if you want and let it be her problem, but you don't--"

"How about you let Robin speak for herself, Dr. Drake?" Jason said flatly. "She doesn't need you taking over her life."

"_Listen_," Patrick hissed, clenching his fists.

"Hey!" Robin shouted. "Would both of you just _shut up_?" Patrick and Jason both snapped their mouths shut, and Robin shared an exasperated look with Sam. Motioning for them to sit down, Patrick forcefully edged Jason out of the way so that the mobster wouldn't sit on the couch where Patrick and Robin had so recently been enjoying each other's company. Muttering, "Babies," under her breath, Robin sat next to Patrick, and Jason and Sam took the easy chairs across the coffee table. Once she saw she had their attention, Robin inhaled a deep breath and spoke. "Okay, long story short: the epidemic wasn't an accident, it was part of a larger plan for Port Charles, one of my parents' crazy enemies is after me to help him with whatever that plan is, and his strike team mistook Sam for me in the fog last night." She looked at the slack-jawed expressions on Sam's and Jason's faces, as well as the look of pure consternation on Patrick's. "Any questions?"

Sam recovered first. "Oh," she said. "I guess that explains why they said they had orders not to hurt you. They needed you for something."

"Yeah," Patrick nodded. "But for what?"

Jason rubbed a hand over his face. "You got Sam mixed up in this?"

"Hey!" Patrick shouted before Robin could. "You're saying that like it's Robin's fault this maniac is after her!"

"Maniac?" Sam frowned. "You said he was an old enemy of your parents."

Robin nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. "He's the guy I thought murdered my parents." She shrugged and decided to go all in. "He's a megalomaniacal super-spy with the kinds of resources that Sonny _wishes_ he had."

"And he's after you," Jason replied flatly. Dropping his head for a moment, he sighed and then looked at Robin in concern. "What are you doing to protect yourself?"

"Don't worry about me," Robin shook her head. "And you two need to _not_ get involved. This guy is gunning for the people in my family, so you're safest by keeping your distance." She sighed. "Hopefully, the mistake with Sam won't put her on his radar. But just in case, you might want to keep an extra guard or two on her." Robin looked at Sam to make sure this was all right. "I know this is the last thing you need, after everything that happened last month."

"You shouldn't have to deal with this at all!" Sam exclaimed. "Why won't you just let Jason put some guards on you?"

"She's right, Robin," Jason said. "If this guy is as bad as you say he is, you're going to need the protection."

"I will be _fine_," Robin insisted, her eyes narrowing. "And since when did you give a damn?"

"Since always," Jason replied.

"Since _never_," Patrick snorted, standing up. "I know all about what happened between you two, and can I just say that your concern is too little, too late?"

Jason narrowed his eyes and stood as well. "No, you can't say that. Stay out of things that aren't your business, Drake."

Patrick shrugged. "Robin _is_ my business." He smirked at Jason. "So why don't you follow Robin's suggestion and keep yourself _out_ of a situation that clearly has nothing to do with you."

"Why don't _you_ let someone who can _protect_ Robin do so?"

"Why don't you _both_ shut up?" Sam interrupted. She flashed another apologetic look at Robin. "I'm assuming you know a lot more than you're telling us, right?"

Robin nodded. "My parents are both back in town, and that'll either make things a lot better or a lot worse."

"Worse," Patrick muttered under his breath, earning him a jab in the side from Robin. "Ouch! Jeez, haven't I suffered enough at the hands of your insane family?"

"Can we please focus?" Jason frowned.

Robin turned to him and deflated a little. He had that effect on her now. "Look, Jason," she said gently. "There's nothing you can do about this. I know you hate being in that position, but I really do think that you're inviting trouble if you get involved." Robin looked at him and nodded pointedly. "This isn't a part of your world, it's a part of mine. I'm sorry Sam got mixed up in it, but you have to let us handle it."

Jason nodded, but raised a skeptical eyebrow at Patrick. "And he's a part of this?"

"Yes, he is," Robin said simply. She saw Patrick's face relax, and she had to grin. Maybe he really _was _serious about all this.

Nodding at Sam, Jason began walking toward the door. "Robin, if you need anything..."

He let the offer stand unsaid, and Robin realized that that was how it was supposed to be. She nodded at Jason, and offered a small smile and a wave to Sam. They left, closing the door behind them, leaving Robin and Patrick alone once again.

"Well," Robin laughed shakily. "That was different."

"That was ridiculous," Patrick retorted.

Robin giggled. "Actually, I haven't been caught making out on a couch since I was seventeen."

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," Patrick grumbled, but he found himself unable to muster any real frustration at the sight of Robin smiling. The last two days had been hell, and the sight of a happy Robin warmed a part of Patrick that felt suspiciously like his heart. He would have to ponder that at a later time. "So," he asked, sliding an arm around Robin's waist. "Where were we?"

"I believe we were...here..." Robin leaned up to kiss Patrick.

"Robin!"

The door burst open and Bobby and Lulu rushed inside. Bobby gaped at the sight before him, while Lulu giggled. "Well, this is different."

"Oh my God!" Bobby grimaced. "You really _were_ making a booty call this afternoon."

Patrick rubbed a hand across his face. "Tonight was supposed to _erase_ the bad memories, not create new ones."

"Why were Jason Morgan and Sam McCall leaving here?" Lulu asked. shifting her laptop bag onto the coffee table.

"Because the universe hates me," Patrick muttered. "_Ow_!" He frowned at Robin and rubbed at his arm where she had punched him. "Are you _always_ abusive?"

"Why is Robin's neck all red?" Bobby cocked his head to the side curiously. When Robin's face flushed, Bobby's face paled. "Oh for the love of God!"

Lulu doubled over laughing. "You are such a _baby_!" she said to Bobby.

"This is like some horrible nightmare," Patrick moaned, not knowing how it was possible for the kid to grate on his last nerve after only a few days. "Mocked by an twelve-year-old."

"You gave me a _hickey_, and you're calling _Bobby_ immature?" Robin hissed at Patrick.

"I don't recall you complaining."

"Dad never told me that sexcapades were a part of espionage," Bobby whimpered.

"Dude, you really _are_ acting like a twelve-year-old," Lulu said, though her voice held an odd mixture of exasperation and disappointment.

"I think there's a lot about all this your dad never told you about," Robin muttered, thinking back to all the stories her mother shared with her in Paris.

Bobby shook his head furiously and pulled his own laptop out of his bad. "Ignoring all this horrible imagery," he said, unable to not snicker at Patrick's darkened face, "We actually have a serious problem to talk to you about."

Robin felt her amusement fall away immediately, and moved to sit down next to Bobby. "Did you find out more?"

Patrick moved to sit next to Robin, concern edging into his features; Robin had filled him in over dinner -- such as it was -- about Bobby's discovery regarding the virus; he knew that nothing good was coming, but figured that the more information they had, the better.

"So we got into the WSB's systems," Lulu began, watching Bobby pull up the new documents they had found. "Bobby was right, there was a lot more information in their files than he got the first time around."

"Unfortunately," Bobby sighed in frustration, "Most of the data is encrypted, and I'm not good enough to decrypt it so fast." He clenched a fist against his leg. "I need a lot more time."

Lulu nodded in agreement. "That stuff is so far beyond anything I can do," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry, Robin. I wanted to help you."

Robin's shoulders drooped, but she gave Lulu a small smile. "It's okay. I know you tried. At least now we have _something_. Maybe we can run it by my parents." She shuddered at the thought; Robert and Anna would not be pleased that they were breaking into the WSB's top-secret data files. Actually, Robin thought, that was exactly the kind of thing her parents _would_ condone. She had such a weird family.

"We were able to get some stuff, though," Bobby added, nodding at Lulu. "The little sneak over here pulled some info on my parents."

Robin and Patrick perked up at that. "And?" Robin asked.

"I was right," Bobby said. "My dad _was_ meeting up with someone." His eyes shadowed suddenly. "Lulu found the records for a car service and the driver's name, but apparently, that's the last information the Bureau had on my father. Whatever happened to my parents, it happened after hooking up with that car service."

"So we're not much better off than we were before," Patrick said darkly. "We know for certain that you're parents went missing, we know for certain that this Faison guy wants Robin for research, we know that the _virus_," he spat that word, "Was supposed to do something else, and we know that Port Charles wasn't a random target." He looked at Robin, helplessness showing in his eyes; Patrick hated being helpless. "Where the hell do we go from here?"

Robin frowned as something Patrick said stuck in her mind. "None of this was random," she said. "It's all connected, but we're missing _something_." She looked at Bobby. "You're parents didn't go missing until _after_ the epidemic, and after my father..." Her voice trailed off as her eyes widened in realization. "He was drawing him out," she breathed. "Faison must have known, or heard rumors, that my father was alive. He waited to make his move on Sean and Tiffany until _after_ my father was back out in the open."

"He knew that Robert would come back to Port Charles to see you," Bobby agreed.

"And he must've known you would call your mother," Patrick added. "You said this guy was obsessed with her for years, he had to have known she would come back as soon as he made a move against you."

"He would have known my dad wouldn't leave again," Lulu said nervously. "The guy knows that my dad sucks in the emotional connection department, but he also knows my dad would tear the earth apart if his children were in danger." Lulu cursed. "He saw what my dad was willing to do when he kidnapped Lucky the last time, he must have known that Dad would stay close to us after the epidemic."

"Dammit!" Robin shouted, anger overcoming her senses. "He knew we'd circle the wagons and get everyone back in town. He _knew_ that all his old enemies would come back here!" She twisted to face Bobby, here eyes blazing with emotion. "Your dad must have known something; that has to be why he was going to London."

Bobby frowned. "So what happened, then? He sounded--"

"Faison is an expert at mind control," Lulu said softly. "He used it with Lucky, so maybe he somehow got to your dad, too?" She looked at Bobby. "When we finally got Lucky back, he didn't sound like himself at all."

"Faison must have figured that your dad would be coming to Port Charles next," Robin said, dropping her head forward. "So he got to him first."

"What about my mom?" Bobby asked worriedly.

Robin shook her head sadly. "I don't know."

Patrick ran a hand through his hair. "So the guy either removes all the major players, or makes sure they're all in the one place he's aiming for." Patrick caught Robin's eyes, each communicating the same thought.

"We've been played," Robin agreed. "Whatever Faison wants, he's manipulated everything to get it. He'll have to make his next move soon."

"And whatever it is," Bobby nodded grimly. "It's gonna be huge."

* * *

Across town, the Port Charles Harbor burst into fire and light as the Haunted Star exploded. 


	20. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

It was a somber mood that greeted Robin, Patrick, Bobby, and Lulu when they raced through the Scorpio-Jones house's front door. The call from Mac had been frantic, fairly ordering Robin to get herself to the relative safety of his home, where the others were already congregating. Robin had paled at Mac's words, _"The Haunted Star exploded. There's been one confirmed casualty, but I have no idea who it is. Get back to the house, now!"_ and she had wasted no time in hurrying everybody out of her apartment. Lulu was frantic, and Robin had barely been able to keep the younger girl from running to the docks in search of her father; Patrick had driven them to the Scorpio-Jones house, exchanging worried glances with Robin in the rearview mirror the entire way. Bobby had hesitated for a moment before climbing into the front seat; Robin thought it was for the best that she sat with Lulu to keep her calm. Patrick had barely stopped the car when Lulu jumped out and burst through the front door, the rest of them following on her heels.

"Dad!" Lulu cried, running into Luke's waiting embrace. "Oh, thank God!" She started sobbing, and Luke simply held her tighter.

Robin breathed a sigh of relief as she watched the two Spencers confirm each other's life. She leaned into Patrick's side and cast a worried glance at Bobby, who was watching Lulu and Luke with an expression that Robin couldn't quite identify. "Hey," she said softly, rubbing a comforting hand along Bobby's arm. "What's wrong?"

"I should have been able to figure it out," he replied. "If I had been better, maybe there would have been something in the encrypted files about the Haunted Star." Bobby looked back at Robin. "She shouldn't have had to think that her father was dead."

Sighing, Robin gently pushed Bobby to sit down in a chair. She pulled Patrick behind her, and sat near Bobby on one of the living room couches. She looked around the room and felt a weight lift in her chest as she mentally tallied everyone who was there. She knew Mac and Lucky were at the scene of the explosion; Luke was holding his daughter off to the side of the room; Felicia and Georgie were sitting on either side of a pale and shaken Maxie; and Robin's own parents were sitting next to each other on the love seat -- irony if ever Robin had seen it -- and they were resolutely not touching each other. "Where's Liz?" Robin asked quietly.

"She's at GH," Maxie said dully. "She was still there when Mom and Georgie came to get me."

"I'm making Dillon stay at the Quartermaine's," Georgie added, holding tightly to her sister's hand. "I'd rather he be behind their security system and, well..."

Robin nodded in understanding. "You're afraid he's in danger by association." She cast a glance to the side at Patrick, and felt her spirit fall as he avoided her eyes. She found herself unable to really blame him, though; this was exactly the sort of thing she had warned him about from the beginning. Robin was surprised when her mother spoke up.

"Patrick," Anna said. "I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of having a couple of agents posted outside your father's hospital room."

"You did?" Robert asked, surprised.

"Yes, I did," Anna frowned at him. "We don't have any idea what Faison's agenda is this time." She looked at Robin and Patrick with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. "I'd rather we don't take any unnecessary chances."

Patrick swallowed hard, and gripped Robin's hand tighter. "Thank you," he managed.

"I've filled in my sister on everything we know so far," Luke added, not taking his eyes off his daughter. "She'll know if she's seeing anything amiss around the hospital."

"Mac said that someone died," Lulu murmured, still leaning against her father's chest. "Do we know who, yet?"

Luke looked down sadly at his daughter. "One of the night janitors, Sweetie. Alphonso, you remember him?"

Lulu nodded, a few tears leaking out of her eyes. "He had a couple kids, didn't he?"

"Yeah, Princess," Luke replied, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "Yeah, he did."

"I'm just so glad you're okay," Lulu sobbed. "I hate that anybody was hurt, but I'm so happy you weren't...Does that make me a horrible person?"

Luke held her tightly. "No, baby, no. It makes you just like your mother. She worried about everybody, too, but she always worried the most about her family."

Robert swore violently and jumped up. "This is bloody ridiculous!" he shouted. "It was a miracle that none of us were killed tonight. Was he going for Luke, or the Cassadine connection?"

Robin and Patrick exchanged worried glances, and Robin leaned over to nudge Bobby's leg. Bobby looked up at Robin, then quickly cast his eyes towards Lulu. She caught his look and nodded, pulling away from a surprised Luke and moving to sit in front of the coffee table next to Bobby. The two teenagers pulled out their laptops, ignoring the confused expressions on everybody's faces save for the doctors.

Robert quirked an eyebrow. "What's going on?" He directed the question at Robin.

Robin looked over at her father, forcing the sizzle of bitterness to the back of her mind. Now was not the time to open that can of worms, and as much as Robin hated to admit it, they needed Robert's help. "Bobby and Lulu found out some information that we need to share with you." She paused and took a deep breath; she had not told anyone, not even Patrick, about Sam's confession in the hospital; _"I think he may have known that I wasn't you."_

"Er, yeah," Bobby chuckled nervously, avoiding Robert's stare. "You have to promise not to shoot me."

"Why would I want to shoot you?" Robert asked very slowly.

"Because you're not gonna like how I got my information." Bobby ducked his head and pulled up several of the documents documents he had shown Robin earlier that day. "I sort of, um, hacked into the WSB's mainframe and took as much information as I could about what my dad was working on."

Robert, Anna, and Felicia gaped, and Luke let loose a wall-shaking guffaw. "You _stole_ top-secret documents from the most super-secret spy agency in the world?" Luke's eyes sparked with mirth as he looked at Robert. "Maybe you oughta think about taking the 'Security' out of your name." He paused and turned towards his daughter. "And how do you fit into all this?"

Lulu grinned slightly. "I kind of helped Bobby steal some more information from the WSB earlier tonight."

Luke beamed with pride. "That's my girl! You're a Spencer, through and through."

Robert opened and closed his mouth several times before he was able to form a coherent sentence. "You...I don't understand. You _hacked_ our database? Where'd you even learn to do that?"

"Dad thought it was a useful life skill."

Robert covered his face with his hands and moaned, while Anna just chuckled. "Sounds like Sean," she said, moving across the room to peer at the computer. "Just out of curiosity, what did you find?"

Bobby visibly relaxed at Anna's tacit acceptance of his activities; it's only criminal if the authorities say it is, he thought. "I think my dad was involved somehow with the epidemic that hit Port Charles in February."

For the next several minutes, Bobby and Robin explained the information they had found, as well as their current theory about what Faison wanted. The atmosphere in the room grew tenser as each new piece of information was presented. Once they were done, Robert, Anna, Felicia, and Luke immediately began discussing options, turning away Robin, Bobby, Patrick, and Lulu, as well as Maxie and Georgie.

"Well, you have to admire them for going with the classics," Luke snorted.

"Oh, yeah," Robert rolled his eyes. "I just _adore_ the DVX for trying to kidnap my daughter for her brain. I feel so much better about all this now."

"Bioweapons and mind-control are pretty standard fare where they're concerned," Felicia remarked.

"So we know Faison is trying again," Anna said. "Going after Robin to complete whatever this thing was supposed to be doing."

"To what end?" Robert asked, frowning at Anna. "Is it to get to you or to get to me?"

Luke's face darkened. "Or maybe to get to all of us. The Haunted Star is a pretty powerful symbol of all the people who've crossed him in Port Charles: you me, the Cassadines..."

While the people Robin had started calling The Old Guard in her mind paid less and less attention to their children, their children started pooling their own knowledge together. Alternate theories were always good, she thought, and it couldn't hurt to have as many points of view examining the information as possible.

"Anything new?" Robin asked the group.

Bobby shook his head. "Not since we talked in your apartment."

Lulu glanced over at the adults -- she couldn't quite bring herself to consider Robin and Patrick as a part of that group -- and frowned. "I don't think they're getting the same things out of the files that we are."

Maxie paled and brought a hand up to her mouth. "I...I can't do this right now. I'm sorry." She bolted up and raced out of the room.

"Maxie!" Georgie called, casting an apologetic look at the others before running after her sister.

Robin started to stand, torn between going to her family and trying to squeeze new information out of the same facts they had gone over for two days. In the end, it was Patrick's pleading look that kept Robin seated; she saw Felicia quietly remove herself from the discussion and go upstairs. Robin knew how much of a comfort Felicia could be when the world was spinning out of control, and she knew Maxie would be okay. Robin turned back to Patrick, Lulu, and Bobby, and frowned at the expression on the younger man's face. "What is it?"

"What your parents and Luke are talking about," he replied quietly, motioning to the other side of the living room. "They keep harping on what Faison's motivations are for going after _them_," Bobby said. "Whatever Faison is up to, whatever the virus was supposed to do, they're convinced that it's all about them. I'm just...I just have a feeling that they're way off base on this."

Robin tried to tamp down on her agreement with him. Logically, she knew what the evidence was pointing towards, but the part of her that was terrified of everything that was happening wanted desperately for everything to be about her parents; if it was about them, then they could protect her. Robin missed being protected by them. "But the Haunted Star," she insisted. "That has to be a message for Luke. I mean, I hate to agree with my dad on this, but the connections are more about their past than anything to do with me."

"Unless it was a message for you not to get to comfortable with things," Patrick muttered. When the other three snapped their heads towards him, he hastened to explain, not liking the idea despite how much sense it made. "You looked like you had a great time last week at the reopening party." He couldn't hide the note of bitterness in his voice. "Maybe the explosion was his way of keeping you panicked."

Robin looked at Patrick, startled. "But how would he even know I was at the Haunted Star party?"

"Unless you told him about that, too," Bobby snorted.

Patrick flashed a grimace in Bobby's direction, but quickly came back to Robin. He couldn't possibly be the only person who was thinking this. "Well," he said slowly. "Faison's a spy, right? So why wouldn't he have had people spying on you?"

Robin paled, but shook her head. "Yeah, except that doesn't make sense, either. You told me he looked surprised to hear that I was in Port Charles again, so how could he have had spies on me?"

Lulu rubbed her hands across her face. "This is getting ridiculous!" she groaned. "We're talking ourselves in circles, and we don't know anything more than we did an hour ago."

"The explosion just doesn't make any _sense_," Bobby said. "It doesn't fit the pattern of everything else that's happened." He looked pointedly at Robin. "So far, everything has been geared towards getting at you. The book, the kidnapping, even whatever the DVX's project is, it all comes back to _you_, Robin, not our parents."

"And Uncle Sean?" Robin asked. "Even if he knew something, what good does removing him from the picture serve? He could have told us whatever he knew, and Faison would still have had to come after me."

Bobby shrugged helplessly. "My parents don't fit the pattern, either," he admitted. "So whatever my dad knew, or was going to find out from his contact, it had to be important enough that Faison would go off his plan to take them."

"Assuming we even know what his plan really is," Lulu cautioned. "I mean, it took us _months_ to even figure out he was working for Helena, and then months more to figure out what he had done to Lucky."

"So what exactly is your point?" Bobby snapped.

Lulu rolled her eyes, refusing to take the bait. "My _point _is that we don't know what Faison's real plan is, we only know whatever information he's decided to share with us." She huffed out a breath, slumping her shoulders. "We can't assume anything for certain about his plans."

"Hey, um...Anna?" Bobby called out hesitantly, suddenly uncertain about what he should even call Robin's mother.

Anna, Robert, and Luke snapped out of their private, intense discussion and looked back at their children. All three seemed to have forgotten that they were there, and had been privy to the same information they were arguing about. Anna walked over and folded her arms across her chest, a sad smile crossing her face. "Anna's fine, Bobby," she said gently. "And Aunt Anna's even better whenever you want to get something from me." She winked, momentarily defusing some of the tension in the room. "What is it?"

Bobby looked at Robin, Patrick, and Lulu, and shrugged. It couldn't hurt to pose the question, anyway. "We've been talking about this, and going over everything we know, and, well...none of us are really sure that Faison's plans really have anything to do with you guys."

Robert grunted. "I don't know what your father told you about this guy, but Faison has a pretty heated history with us."

"Yeah, but he's trying to kidnap _Robin_," Lulu insisted.

"Daughter, I understand that you think it looks that way," Luke nodded. "But you need to understand that this guy is the trickiest bastard this side of, well, _him_." Luke pointed at Robert, earning himself a pointed glare from his friend. "If it looks like one thing on the surface, Faison'll go in the opposite direction just to be contrary."

"Faison has always had an agenda, and it has always been about Anna, myself, Luke, or Sean," Robert added, a bit too patronizingly for Robin's taste. "Anything else is over-thinking things."

Bobby blinked in surprise at Robert's abrupt dismissal. "Then did you at least figure out how to find my parents?" he asked hopefully.

Anna looked down, her arms tensing tighter. She cast a sideways glance at Robert, and Bobby could tell from her expression that while she hated whatever Robert's opinion on this was, she also agreed with it. "Bobby," she began gently. "We don't...that is, we aren't sure how to even go about finding your parents at the present time."

Luke's demeanor was one of grim acceptance; he had the look of a man who had lost people to the flames too many times for it to register on the surface anymore. "Kiddo, short of capturing one of Faison's goons, I don't know how we can even figure out where they are, let alone how to rescue them."

"But the memo!" Bobby shouted frantically. "We can find his contact, or trace the car company, or--"

"Bobby," Robert said firmly. "I've known Sean longer than I've known my own daughter, so please don't think for a second that any of this is easy for me. That bastard's got his eye on my child, and he's gone and gotten a hold of one of my oldest friends. Believe me, I'm as angry as I can get about all this!" Robert hissed out a frustrated breath and raised his hands to his hips, pacing slightly to work off his excess energy. "But right now, until we get the Bureau to investigate more thoroughly into all this, there just isn't anything we can do." He breathed out harshly, and for the first time in his life, Bobby did not find himself worshipping the mythical Robert Scorpio. "I'm afraid that, for the moment, your father is on his own."

Robert turned back to Anna and Luke. "We should check in with Mac at the scene. Maybe we'll find something forensics missed."

Anna nodded, moving to crouch down between Robin and Bobby. "I know you're worried," she said, addressing the myriad issues they were both facing. "But Sean is a tough old goat, and I firmly believe he'll come out of this safely. In the meantime," her smile dropped. "I think Luke should stay here with you, just in case. Ah ah, ah!" Anna waved off the beginning of Robin's objection. "I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself and the others," her eyes shined with pride in spite of the circumstances, "But if you're a target, you can't be the person protecting everyone. Let someone else watch your back."

"Sorry, Anna," Luke said firmly. "I'm going with you and the _other_ old goat to the docks. That was my livelihood that was blown up tonight, and I'll need all the ammo for insurance claims I can get. The precious Misses Spencer wouldn't chip in for water to douse the fire. Besides," he added. "Felicia's upstairs, and you and I both know she's someone Robin would be lucky to have watching her back."

Anna looked concerned, but when Robin rested a hand on her arm, she relented. "Are you sure?" Anna asked her daughter softly. "I'll be wherever you want me. If you want me to stay here with you--"

"I'll be fine with Felicia upstairs, Mom," Robin smiled. No matter how much life was beating her down, Robin always felt happier when she was near her mother. Out of the corner of her eye, Robin saw Patrick drop his head forward, and she felt a pang of remorse; she should have known that seeing her have a loving moment with her mother would bring up memories of his own. "Go help Dad and Uncle Mac figure out what happened tonight." She cast her eyes up and looked meaningfully at her father. "The Haunted Star exploding _doesn't_ fit with the rest of the pattern."

Robert sighed, seeing that he was not going to convince his daughter to back off her investigations. Motioning towards Luke, they began walking to the door. Anna squeezed her daughter's hand and stood, following her errant husband and his best friend. She paused at the door and turned around. "I've got my mobile with me. Call me for _anything_, Robin, okay?" She hated leaving her daughter, but Anna knew that the only way to truly protect Robin was to find evidence to give to the WSB that Faison was really still alive.

Once alone, Bobby twisted in his seat back to Robin, Patrick, and Lulu. "I don't care what they say," Bobby growled, determination shining in his eyes. "I'm going to London to find my parents."


	21. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15  
**

_Once alone, Bobby twisted in his seat back to Robin, Patrick, and Lulu. "I don't care what they say," Bobby growled, determination shining in his eyes. "I'm going to London to find my parents."_

Lulu nodded quickly. "I'm coming, too." She held up a hand to stave off the protests. "Hey, hey, hey! You need me, buddy," she said to Bobby. "You're gonna need to get back inside the WSB's servers, and you're gonna need another computer running decryption software on those files." She narrowed her eyes at Bobby. "_You need me_."

Robin sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. She couldn't believe this was happening. "You're not going alone."

Patrick whipped his head up. "Are you crazy?" he gaped. "I mean, yeah, you are, but I didn't think you were _crazy_-crazy."

"Patrick," Robin warned.

"No!" Patrick jumped out of his seat. "This is ridiculous!"

"You've been saying that an awful lot the last few days. Aren't you getting tired yet?" The expression on the older man's face was enough to stave off any further comments from Bobby.

Patrick stood up and loomed over Robin, his hands on his hips in challenge. "Robin, you cannot seriously be thinking about following Bobby on some half-assed trek to London," Patrick said slowly, reining in his frustration. "I hate to agree with your father about anything, but you need to stay where you can be protected."

Robin bristled. "And after everything you've heard about me, you don't think I can take care of myself?"

"I don't think it's a question of you taking care of yourself, I think it's a question of you wanting to stick it to your father."

Lulu and Bobby exchanged nervous glances, and shifted out of the way as Robin leapt out of her seat on the couch. They could practically see steam coming from her ears, and Bobby couldn't help but feel a little scared for Patrick at that moment. But just a little.

"You really don't get it, do you, Patrick?" Robin seethed, staring Patrick down as much as their height difference would allow. "Yeah, I'm mad at my father right now, but not for any reason that has to do with me." She waved a hand in Bobby's direction to illustrate her point. "You were panicking before because you thought your father was in danger by your association with me. It took my mom placing _armed guards_ around him to make you feel better, and don't think I didn't see the color come back to your face when you found that out! So poor Bobby, here--"

"Poor Bobby?" Patrick and Bobby repeated, earning glares from both Robin and Lulu.

"--Bobby here has been worrying about what happened to his parents for over a _week_ now, and we finally have some solid leads on them, and then my dad comes in all Super Spy, and tells him that Uncle Sean is on his own?" Robin curled her lip in disgust. "That's my _godfather_ out there Patrick, and one of my parents' oldest friends, and they're all but abandoning him to whatever Faison has planned!"

"You know," Bobby said, "When you say it like that, yeah. Poor me. Ow!" He frowned and rubbed his arm where Lulu punched him, but fell silent again.

"This isn't about me, Patrick--"

Patrick cut her off. "Yes it is!" he hissed. "Don't you see that? I'm _barely_ processing everything that's been happening -- and can I just say that my dad _never_ told me about this part of living in Port Charles? -- but even I know this is about you. Don't!" He waved Robin off as she opened her mouth to reply. "We were _finally_ getting to a place where we didn't jump all over each other and run away at the slightest provocation, we were _just_ getting started, and then the sky falls down on us!" Patrick rested his hands on his hips and tried to calm his breathing. Dropping his head slightly, he met Robin's eyes. "I didn't grow up around things like this, so maybe I can see it all more clearly than you can. This Faison guy is the ultimate monster under the bed, and he's terrorized all of your families," he nodded at Lulu and Bobby, "For decades. And he reentered your life because I did something stupid and then went and made things worse by trying to make them better, so you'll forgive me if I'm a _little_ invested in making sure you come out of this alive and well." His eyes flashed accusingly at her.

Robin dropped her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Patrick, none of this is your fault."

"I know," Patrick said, softer now. "But that doesn't really change anything, does it?" He took a step closer to Robin, almost forgetting that they had an audience. "I've never done any of this, Robin. Mel and I sort of kept stumbling sideways into each other, so this is the first time I've had to try." Patrick took her hand and lowered his voice. "This is the first time I've _wanted_ to try. And I did, and I blew it all to hell." They both laughed softly at that, before Patrick turned serious again. "I get that this is terrifying, but he is _after you_. And he'll go through anybody he has to in order to get to you. And no matter how much you _hate _it, I'm involved now, too." Patrick looked pointedly at Robin. "Do you get that yet? Because it involves you, I'm going all in, however I can help."

"I do get it," Robin sighed. "And I _am_ terrified, just as much for me as for everybody else, and now you." She looked up at him, sadness coloring her face. "Say whatever you want, Patrick, but the only reason any of this is touching you is because you wouldn't leave me alone." Robin pulled back slightly. "At least maybe if I'm not in town, then it won't be so dangerous for everyone else."

"So, does that mean you'll help me find my parents?" Bobby asked, breaking into the conversation.

"It mean's she'll help _us_ find your parents," Lulu reminded him.

Robin looked over at them and smiled. "Yes," she said, rolling her eyes. "I guess we're going to London."

Patrick dropped his head and sighed. "There's no talking you people out of this, is there?" he asked. Patrick closed his eyes, and came to a decision. Well, he thought, Drakes don't do anything halfway. "Then I guess we're going to London."

"Over my dead body!" Robin shouted.

Patrick jerked his eyes back to hers. "Excuse me?"

Robin remained firm, pulling out of Patrick's grasp completely. "Over my dead body will you do something so stupid!"

"Yeah, it _will_ be your dead body if you don't take all the help you can!" Patrick shouted back, shocked by Robin's sudden change in attitude. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem, _Dr. Drake_," Robin emphasized his title, "Is that this is going to be exceedingly dangerous, and it'll be hard enough for me to look after those two!"

"Hey!" Bobby and Lulu cried indignantly.

"--Without having to look after you, too!" she finished.

Patrick's face darkened. "Well, then, there isn't a problem, because I don't need you to look after me, _Dr. Scorpio_."

Robin raised an eyebrow. "I don't think we're going to need any neurosurgeries performed while we're there," she scoffed, "So this'll be a little bit out of your area of expertise."

"Because Yale and the Sorbonne are the normal training grounds for super-spies now?" Patrick spat. "Unless you have a double life you haven't mentioned yet--"

"What, did you think my little speech the other night was just for show?" Robin asked incredulously. "All that stuff I told you about self-defense and firearms, I know about from _experience_." She allowed herself a moment's satisfaction at the look of shock on Patrick's face. "Yeah, Patrick. I _can_ defend myself, and pretty damn well, too! I don't need whatever _help_ you think you'll be providing, and I don't need you to protect me!"

Patrick abruptly turned Robin around and pushed against her lower back, ushering her towards the front door. "Could you excuse us for a minute?" he asked tightly, not waiting for a response. It was not a request.

Robin fumed silently and pulled away from Patrick, walking quickly for the door. "And we shouldn't be going outside unescorted!" she called out behind her as she left the house.

"Neither of your parents would let this house go unguarded!" Patrick shouted after her, following her outside. Slamming the door behind him, his voice came muffled through the walls, "And unless they're complete morons, they've got people watching you, too!"

Left alone in the living room, Bobby and Lulu turned to each other and gaped at the scene they had just witnessed. Each raising a silent eyebrow at the other, they simultaneously jumped up from their seats and raced for the front window to continue watching the show.

* * *

"You have _no_ right to talk to me like I'm a child, Robin!" Patrick bit out. 

"And _you_ have no right trying to make decisions for me like that!" Robin retorted. "We're barely dating; you are _not_ my boyfriend."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "Oh, are we back to that again? I knew this was really about your commitment issues."

"My _what_?" Robin choked. "You're one to talk, Mr. I-Don't-Date-a-Woman-More-Than-Twice! If either of us has commitment issues, it's you!"

"Bull, Robin!" Patrick shouted, catching a whisper of movement along the tree line. He smirked as Robin saw it too; it looked like he had been right about the WSB agents, after all. "I'm trying to protect you and just offered to follow you halfway around the world on some crazy spy mission, and you think I have _commitment_ issues?"

"I think the only reason you made the offer was to prove a point!" Robin shot back, stubbornly raising her chin.

"Enlighten me, then," Patrick challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "What point am I so desperate to make that I'd put myself in harm's way to do so?"

Robin returned his gesture, crossing her arms across herself in a gesture of defiance. "You've been bragging since the day we met about what a go-getter kind of guy you are. When we went out the other night you were going on and on about how you don't do anything halfway, and how you've never backed down from a challenge." Her eyes flashed in the moonlight, reflecting her anger and the tiniest trace of fear. "Well, I've always been the ultimate challenge, haven't I?"

"You are the most _infuriating_ woman--"

"First, it was because I didn't fall for your lines," Robin continued, meeting his glare head-on. "Then it was because I was HIV-positive, and you were determined to prove how _informed_ and how _fearless_ you were--"

"Of all the insulting things you could possibly say right now--"

"--And now it's because I'm involved in one of my parents' crazy spy games," Robin finished tearfully. "Our relationship has _always _been about you proving a point to me."

Patrick ducked his head for a moment, gathering his thoughts before bringing up his burning eyes to meet her own. "Are you finished?" he asked softly. Robin nodded, so Patrick continued. "You are the most cowardly person I've ever met."

"Excuse you!"

"No!" Patrick snapped. "I mean it! You have been running scared from us since the day we met. First, you hid behind your hurt from Jason, and then you hid behind the HIV--"

"Well, I'm sorry my _incurable disease_ got in the way of your sex life!"

"And now you're hiding behind my past!" he finished. Taking a deep breath, Patrick stared at Robin and continued angrily. "You go on and on about how great being in a relationship is, and about the evils of doing anything casual, and yet you have been running away from me since the beginning. For all your pronouncements, you're _terrified_ that you might be happy with me for however long we last."

Robin returned his stare, suddenly overcome by the need to push Patrick as far away from her as quickly as possible. "You talk about being in a relationship like it's something you've really ever experienced," she said. "Falling sideways into someone doesn't count!"

Patrick ignored her and continued making his point. "You're right, I am a go-getter," he said unapologetically. "I've always gone after what I want, and nothing has ever stood in my way. The best college, the best medical school, the best residency program--"

"The best women?" Robin added bitterly.

Patrick nodded. "Yeah. Whatever, _whoever_ I wanted, I've gotten. And I've wanted you from day one."

"You're just proving my point!"

"You need to stop talking for once!" Patrick exclaimed. "My God, is this what you do? Talk someone to death or until you get your way?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Yes, you were a challenge, because you _challenged me_. Since the beginning, you've been different."

"And that is exactly what I have been saying--"

"What did I just say?" Patrick snapped. Robin's jaw dropped at his tone, but she fell silent. "You were different. You stuck out from all the other women. You made me want more. Why have you always found that so offensive?"

"Because I am _nobody's_ challenge!" Robin hissed, tears stinging her eyes.

* * *

"What do you think they're saying out there?" Lulu asked Bobby, not taking her eyes off the two figures on the front lawn. 

"Hopefully she's reminding him of all the reasons why it would be stupid for him to tag along with us," Bobby replied.

Lulu rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on. I think it's sweet that he would risk everything to follow her halfway across the world."

"And I suppose what we walked in on earlier tonight was 'sweet' too?"

"_No_," Lulu retorted. "It was romantic. Plus," she grinned wickedly, "Patrick Drake is seriously hot."

Bobby frowned and shifted away from Lulu slightly. "He was more concerned that we interrupted his make-out time with Robin than what we discovered about the DVX's activities."

"Oh, please!" Lulu cried, twisting her head to glare at Bobby. "Robin was a more than willing partner in all that, not that I blame her in the slightest."

"Robin needs to be focused on protecting herself."

"You are such a _guy_! Do you even have a single romantic bone in your body?"

"How the hell does romance figure into all this?!"

Lulu shook her head slightly, her wide eyes disbelieving. "You really don't get it, do you?" she asked. "It's about him wanting to risk everything for her. That's terrifying, yeah, but also an incredibly romantic gesture. He said he'd drop everything, his job, his family, _everything_, to help her solve this mystery. He didn't walk away when it got bad, and now he's willing to do even more." She looked at him. "That's _real_ romance. Who needs flowers and candy when you've got a hot guy willing to risk everything for you?"

Bobby made a noncommittal grunt and returned his attention back to the window. "So," he said after a moment. "Do you think we should risk it and open the window?"

* * *

"I am _nobody's_ challenge," Robin repeated. 

Patrick took a deep breath to steady himself. "Robin, you know that I am the most arrogant man on the face of the planet, and you also know I take my career more seriously than even you take yours," he said, speaking lower now. "Yes, the HIV is an issue, but not insurmountable, and not one I'm afraid of." He looked pointedly at her. "Excepting times like this when you make me want to wring your neck, I think you're worth it. And now I am offering my help, for however much it's worth, to run off to the other side of the world, battle evil super spies, and save your godfather from uncertain doom." Patrick's face fell and his eyes told her how much her doubt was hurting him at this point. "If it were just about the challenge, I'd duck out until you were safe again. It's about _you_."

"I don't want it to be."

Her voice came out soft and hollow, and Patrick frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"I don't..." Robin held her arms tighter around her torso as she struggled to put her swirling emotions into words. "You know about what happened between me and Jason?" she finally asked.

Patrick blinked. "Yeah," he said slowly, unsure about the sudden change in conversation.

"And you know about what my father did," she added. Upon seeing Patrick nod, she took a shaky breath and continued. "Even my mom still runs off on missions. I know she'll always come back, and I love that she's able to make the world safer however she can, but she still leaves."

"Robin, what--"

"Please let me speak," she said neutrally, holding up a hand to stave off another interruption. "I have three godfathers, and they all left. Granted, Uncle Sean was recovering from major surgery for months, but he and Aunt Tiffany never came back. Buzz just sort of went away, and Frisco decided he liked undercover WSB work more than he liked having a family. My grandmother died, my stepfather died, my ex-stepmother, who was supposed to help take care of my after I thought my parents had died, left and never came back. Jason turned his back on me for a child that wasn't his and a woman he never loved, and Sonny, a man I used to think of as my big brother, kicked me out of his life in favor of Jason."

Robin trailed off, and Patrick felt a knot in his stomach that told him where this was heading. He forced himself to say it. "And Stone?" he asked hoarsely.

"He was the only person besides Uncle Mac who put me before everything else, made me the center of his world the same way I did him, and he..." she said, blinking back tears, "Life took him away from me. He fought so hard, he tried to stay, and even at the end when AIDS proved how strong it really was, I was the only thing in his world. But he was still gone. I'm not...I'm not used to being the center of things anymore. I'm not used to being the thing that people focus on, that they fight for."

Robin looked at Patrick and saw his dark eyes processing everything. She continued, determined to finally lay everything bare. "You're saying you would walk into an unknown, dangerous situation for me, and I don't know how to handle that. Faison is doing all these horrible things because he wants me for something, and I can't even deal with that. You know how hurricanes, and all their destructive force, center around the eye?. I'm in the eye now, and all these things, these different things, are happening _because of me_. It's just...I don't know how to do this anymore." She shrugged helplessly and dropped her eyes to the ground, unable to look at Patrick after being so raw.

Patrick stared at her for a few moments, letting her words wash over him in the silence. It made sense now, he thought, why she had always been so hesitant in the face of his brazen advances. He also found himself hating most of the people who had been in Robin's life before him. "You don't know how to be wanted anymore," he said, rather than asked. "Whether it's good or bad, you don't know how to have someone want you."

Robin kept her eyes downward, but shakily nodded her head. She usually hated his summations of her life, but couldn't deny that this was the essence of what she had said. "It's been a really long time since someone put me first, Patrick, and it sounds an awful lot like that's what you're doing."

He shrugged. "It is," he said, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And to him, it really was. "Look, you have continually taken my attitude as a negative thing," Patrick explained. "I mean, if I wasn't focused on you, I wouldn't have spent so much time _focusing on you_. I get," he swallowed, "I get that it's hard for you, especially in light of everything I'm learning about your past, to believe that this hasn't just been about the chase for me." Patrick rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in uncertainty. "And I know my past doesn't exactly instill confidence in you."

"You keep telling me that you chase women because you get bored easily," Robin said bitterly. "What happens if you get _bored_ while we're searching London for clues?"

"It's been five months, Robin," Patrick reminded her. "I'm not bored. I'm excited about the next thing with you. It's _different _with you. I have no idea what to call it or how to categorize it, but this...thing between us is new, and it's been growing since December." He looked at her. "If I was going to move on, I think I would have by now. I just...I just know that I want more of it. I want more of you, and that's why I'm doing all this, Robin. I know it's been a long time for you, but it really is that simple from where I'm standing."

Robin brought her eyes up to meet his. Her arms were still crossed over her chest, but she looked looked less guarded now. Robin took a step closer to Patrick, her dark eyes shining from unshed tears and the sliver of moonlight overhead. "You realize what you're asking for, right?" she asked. "I know what we _said_ we were doing, but things have changed so much since the other night, Patrick. You're right, I thought the HIV would be our big obstacle, but this whole..._thing _with Faison and my crazy spy-parents and everything else, I never thought that part of my past would touch me again." Stepping closer until she could feel Patrick's body heat, Robin looked up at him. "You need to be really sure about all this."

"I am," Patrick said, taking a chance and bringing his arms up to Rub along Robin's back. She didn't pull away this time. "You matter, Robin, to more people than you realize right now." He grinned, some of his usual cockiness slipping back into his tone. "All I can tell you is that I'm one of the good guys in this scenario."

Robin laughed -- _finally_, she thought -- and collapsed against Patrick's chest. "This is pretty crazy, isn't it?" she mumbled into his shirt.

"No kidding," Patrick snorted.

She peered up at him, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "You do realize you very likely just volunteered to help stop a plot to take over the world, right?"

"Yeah. I think I could get used to the whole 'being a superhero' thing."

"We'll see if you say that when we're running away from DVX agents while they're shooting at us. You've never even held a gun. What role do you intend to play, exactly?"

Patrick shrugged, still holding Robin to him. "I sort of figured I'd just seduce the beautiful-yet-evil DVX agent who will inevitably be leading the chase to find us and get information out of her."

Robin burst out laughing. "The DVX agent leading the chase to get us is an old, evil, and crazy man. Although," she grinned cheekily up at Patrick, "I'd pay good money to see you try and seduce Faison. Purely for entertainment purposes."

"He must have a protégé," Patrick argued weakly, paling at Robin's suggestion.

Robin's amusement abruptly fell away. "I wonder..." she said. "Did you see anyone else besides Faison in the bookshop?"

Patrick frowned at the change of mood, but answered. "Yeah, actually. There was a younger guy, about my age. He was Asian and he definitely worked there."

"Really?" Robin perked up. "Like, as a cover for Faison, or do you think the guy worked _for_ Faison?"

"Um...he did what Faison told him to." Patrick thought back to something the older man had said. "You know, when I was paying, Faison told the other guy to give me some sort of discount." He looked at Robin with wide eyes. "I didn't think about it then, because I didn't know about the book. But the other guy _must _have known what Faison was doing."

"So he probably works for the DVX," Robin concluded. "You didn't catch a name, did you?"

Patrick closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to touch Robin's. "Hoshi...Hiro...Hiroshi, maybe? I don't remember," Patrick sighed in frustration.

"That's okay," Robin said, wrapping her arms around Patrick's back. "At least we know of one other agent who's likely involved with all this." She didn't tell Patrick about the other thought forming in her mind, that this second man was probably the same agent leading the attack on Sam. She still hadn't told him about Sam's suspicion that the lead kidnapper had known that Sam wasn't Robin. She didn't know why yet, but Robin was sure that piece of information was going to be important. She just wasn't certain how. Robin shook her head slightly and pulled her mind back to the current task at hand. "So. London?"

"Well, one way I can be useful is to get us all tickets," Patrick said, unaware of Robin's internal analysis.

"Wait, no," Robin protested.

Patrick put a finger over her lips in a gesture of silence. "We don't know how closely they're paying attention to me, but we do know they're making overtures on your family, Bobby's family, and Lulu's family. My bank account's the least likely to be traced right now, so we need to take advantage of that."

Robin nodded, a gleam of mirth dancing in her eyes. "You're thinking like a spy already."

Patrick gave her a dimpled smile. "Just call me Drake. Patrick Drake."

"God! I'm starting to see why whenever you extol your list of virtues to me, you never include a sense of humor as one of them."

"That was a pun!"

"I rest my case."

"Thank God you didn't go to law school."

Robin rolled her eyes. "We're being watched," she said casually.

Patrick jerked up straighter. "Who? Where? How can you see anything right now?"

Laughing, Robin turned him to face the house, where they saw Bobby and Lulu watching them in the front window. Both teenagers had distinct deer-in-headlights faces at being caught spying, and quickly scrambled out of sight upon seeing Robin and Patrick staring back at them.

Patrick gritted his teeth. "I swear, that kid drives me insane. And not in the good way that you do."

"I though you liked being the center of attention."

"_Women's_ attention," Patrick corrected, wrapping an arm around her and moving them back towards the house. "He does this on purpose, you know," Patrick told Robin. "From the moment we met, Bobby's made it his hobby to annoy me."

"I think it's cute," Robin smiled. "It sort of reminds me of the way Maxie and Georgie were when they were younger."

"Great," Patrick muttered. "Just what I never wanted: a little brother." Sighing, he looked down at Robin as he opened the front door. "Look, why don't you give Mac and your parents a call? I know you're worried about them, so just check in, and then I'll take you guys home."

Nodding, they walked back into the Scorpio-Jones house and prepared to figure out what to do next.


	22. Chapter 16

There's a twist in this chapter that may have some of you screaming for my head. When I plotted this, I wrote it this way because, um, small voice Iwasalreadyplanningthesequel. When I tried researching DNA and paternity/maternity testing, the sheer number of polysyllabic words that had no real basis in the English language made me crawl under my desk and cry. So in addition to a potential Plot Twist of Doon, this chapter also pretty much requires whole new levels of suspending disbelief. Medical reality? Pah! To you, I say: soap opera! Lalala!

**Chapter 16**

"Field ops is reporting a positive hit. The target was destroyed, and local law enforcement is on the scene."

"Excellent. And the WSB?"

"We have positive IDs on Special Agents Scorpio and Devane, just as you anticipated."

"No one else?"

"No, sir. Comm. intercepts indicate that WSB superiors have not deemed any of this significant proof of your existence, or of the DVX's involvement."

"And there have been no signs of Robin Scorpio?"

"No, sir."

"That old fool is more gullible than I remembered."

"Sir?"

"I believe they will be sufficiently preoccupied, Takada. Excellent work."

"Thank you, sir. Here are the new files you requested."

"Hm. Still no progress in the labs?"

"None, sir. Dr. Howard reports that attempts to isolate useful components from Crylium's virus prototype have proven unsuccessful, and that a viable delivery system for any completed weapon is therefore untenable at this time."

"That is quite unfortunate, but it proves we must be successful in obtaining Dr. Scorpio for our work."

"Yes, sir."

"And the other matter I asked you to look into?"

"The second file, sir. The woman's name is Samantha McCall."

"McCall...McCall...I don't believe I've ever crossed paths with another person bearing that name. Is this all the information you have been able to acquire?"

"Yes, sir. It appears she came to Port Charles three years ago, and hadn't had a permanent address for many years prior to that."

"I've seen her eyes before, Takada. Dig deeper. Focus on all of her connections in Port Charles and work backwards from there, and be creative. Sometimes the answers we seek are found in the most surprising places."

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, then. Dismissed."

* * *

Robin surveyed her lab, running through her mental checklist of everything she needed to have done so she could sneak away to London without causing too much suspicion. When she and Patrick had arrived in Alan's office earlier that morning, the chief-of-staff had merely looked at them for a moment, rolled his eyes, and asked how much "personal time" they were requesting. Robin had instinctively opened her mouth to protest that she and Patrick were not taking a vacation _together_, but Patrick had pinched her lower back and smoothly talked over her, thanking Alan for the "Obvious discretion with which he was treating their leave time." With any luck at all -- and at this point she wasn't holding her breath for that -- Robin, Patrick, Lulu, and Bobby would be on a plane out of the country before anyone thought to ask why the Robin would suddenly up and take a holiday with a man she was barely dating.

She and Patrick had parted ways a half-hour ago, agreeing to finish up only the most important, immediate reports and patient files, before handing everything off to the doctors covering their respective cases and sneaking back out of the hospital. Robin yawned; she had been awake for most of the night, packing and talking strategy with Bobby, who was just as chatty at three o'clock AM as he was at three o'clock PM. She flipped through one of her files, guilt momentarily overcoming her at the thought of abandoning her patients. But, as Patrick had taken to reminding her all morning, she was no good to her patients if she was kidnapped and forced to work in some secret lab for an evil spy agency. Robin snapped the folder shut; that particular patient was not critical, and she knew he would be just fine in the hands of Dr. Anderson. With a last glance around her research laboratory, Robin realized that she had taken care of everything she needed to. She stood up to leave, when the lab door was pushed open.

"Robin?" Sam called, peeking her head around the edge of the door.

"Hey," Robin said, confusion coloring her face. "What are you doing here?"

Sam entered the lab and closed the door behind her. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, a large shoulder bag hanging by her side. Sam looked everywhere _except _at Robin. "Do you have a few minutes?" she finally asked, seemingly fascinated by the machines along the wall.

"Well, actually," Robin started to say, but stopped when Sam finally looked at her. Robin gasped slightly; the other woman looked like death warmed over. "Sam, what's wrong?" she asked urgently, her desire to get out of GH temporarily pushed aside.

"I..." Sam trailed off. Her eyes were wide and her skin looked white; she looked the opposite of how she had the night before, when she had been teasing Robin about jumping back into a relationship with Patrick. Sucking in a deep breath, Sam continued. "I need you to run a DNA test."

Robin blinked. "Another one?" she asked. "Is this about your brother again? Because the first test was conclusive--"

"No, it's...it's a new one." Sam lowered the bag onto the work table and looked at it like it would jump up and bite her at any moment. "I...I have something in here, and I need you to run a DNA test on it."

"Sam, look," Robin interrupted. "It's not that I don't feel for you; I do, and I can only imagine how hard it must have been for you to find out you were adopted the way that you did--"

"Alexis Davis is my mother."

Robin's jaw dropped. There was no way Sam had just said what she thought she said. "Huh?" Graceful, Robin chided herself.

"I know," Sam grimaced, a trace of her normal personality finally seeping back into her tone. "That was pretty much my reaction. Followed by violent cursing and the throwing of heavy objects at the wall."

Robin gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I'd imagine. But that doesn't make sense. I mean, I've known Alexis for years, and she's never said anything--"

"Oh, believe me, I know!" Sam spat. "She never even _looked_ for me. She's a lawyer, for God's sake! It only took me and Jason a few days to find out she was my mother; she could have found me!"

"Sam!" Robin grabbed the woman's arm and steadied her; Sam's anger was palpable, and she had nearly knocked a stack of patient charts right off the table as she slammed her fist into the metal.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, her mouth dropping as she reined herself in. "I didn't mean...This is making me act crazy." She looked over at Robin and gave a mirthless smile. "Alexis has a unique talent for doing that, which I guess is _proof_ that she's my mother."

Robin just shook her head, bringing her fingers up to massage her temples. "You're going to have to explain this to me. Go slowly and use small words, please."

Sam nodded and crossed her arms over her chest in an attempt to protect herself from the words she was speaking. "You already know how I found out I was adopted," Sam said. When Robin nodded, she continued. "Jason and I traced my adoption records through what we knew about my birth: the date, and where I had grown up. Stan, Jason's computer guy, tracked the records of baby girls born in clinics on my birthday in Maine, and we came up with a name. Long story short, we tracked down another woman who gave birth to a baby boy the same day at that clinic, and she remembered seeing a teenage girl in a school uniform. We tracked down the school, and found a yearbook from the year I was born."

"Sam..."

"I'm getting there," Sam replied. "Anyway, we found a girl who had taken off the entire semester I would have been born in, and she was the only girl who did so. It was Alexis Davidovich." She looked pointedly at Robin.

Robin nodded mutely, not entirely trusting herself to speak. It was completely outlandish and _completely impossible_; there must have been something Sam and Jason had missed.

"What did your birth records say?" she finally asked. "Your birth certificate?"

Sam just shook her head. "There was nothing," she shrugged. "I guess Alexis was pretty thorough about destroying any evidence that I'd ever even existed."

Robin's head snapped up at that comment. "Wait...You said that Alexis was still a teenager, right?" Please, Robin thought, let me be wrong about this...

"Yeah, she was in boarding school." Sam frowned. "What of it?"

"Oh my God," Robin murmured, bringing a hand to her forehead. "Sam, if Alexis was still so young, do you really think she could have handled this all on her own?"

Sam shrugged again, but her face turned thoughtful. "Well, I guess her parents must have helped her, but still--"

"_Sam_!" Robin hissed, running over to slam the lab door completely shut. Whirling around, she grabbed Sam's arm and pulled her deeper into the room, finally stopping when they were next to a DNA sequencing machine that was nearly as tall as the two women. "Do you have any idea what this means?"

Yanking her arm out of Robin's grip, she stepped back in shock. "So her parent's helped her hide the _unfortunate accident_ that I was," Sam scoffed.

Robin shook her head furiously, the reality of Sam's accusation burning in her chest. "Sam, do you know who Alexis's father was?" When Sam slowly shook her head, confusion coloring her face, Robin's heart sank. "Please at least tell me you and Jason were quiet and circumspect in your search?" she pleaded.

"Robin, what the heck is going on?" Sam asked. "What's suddenly got you so worried?"

"_Sam_," Robin said insistently. "Alexis's father was _Mikkos Cassadine_. As in the head of the Cassadine empire?" She looked questioningly at Sam. "None of this is ringing a bell?"

The other woman shook her head, although she was now clearly fascinated. "How is it you know more about my family than I do?" she asked.

Robin slumped back against the wall. "My family has something of a...bloody history with the Cassadines, particularly those from Mikkos' generation. I sort of grew up hearing horror stories about what a monstrous family they were." Robin smiled ruefully at the memories of her father's 'bedtime stories,' complete with kidnapped maidens and evil plots to take over the world; if only he had been exaggerating any of it. "Sam, you need to be very sure that Alexis is your mother before you go announcing anything."

"Robin," Sam frowned uncertainly. "You're making it sound like my adoption was some sort of evil plot." She laughed slightly. "You can't be serious about this."

"Sam, the only thing I can tell you for certain right now is that the Cassadines would _never_ just let one of their own go. Helena Cassadine _murdered_ Alexis's mother right in front of her, rather than allow the women to produce anymore children with Mikkos, but she couldn't touch Alexis on Mikkos' orders," Robin said. "If a Cassadine is lost, then they're lost for a reason."

Sam didn't say anything, but reached into the bag she had come in with. "I was in Kelly's this morning," she said nervously. "And Alexis was there with Nikolas, and I was just..." She trailed off, but Robin didn't need the words to imagine how Sam must have felt. "Anyway, after they left, I got to their table before the waitress could, and I..." Sam stopped speaking again, and reached into the bag, pulling out a coffee cup with distinct lipstick marks on the rim. "This was Alexis's. I need to know for sure, Robin." She looked pleadingly at the other woman. "I just need to know."

Robin did not immediately reach out for the cup. "You know that what you're asking me to do is completely illegal, right?"

"You just told me that I was apparently born into a family of devils," Sam responded with a raised eyebrow. "If everything you said is true, then I'm in more danger if I don't know for certain, right?"

"All right," Robin sighed. "I'll do it."

* * *

"So what has Jason suggested as far as protection if you turn out to really be Alexis's daughter?"

Sam turned her head to look at Robin. "What do you mean?"

"Well," Robin said thoughtfully, "If we confirm that you are Alexis's daughter, we're also confirming that you're a direct heir to Mikkos Cassadine, as well as a legitimate challenger to Nikolas's inheritance."

"How?" Sam frowned. "I don't want anything to do with that."

"I doubt Helena Cassadine will care," Robin replied. "Neither will any other Cassadine who'll come out of the woodwork, claiming that since you're older than Nikolas, you could technically be considered the first-born heir to Mikkos' fortune. I'm just saying, there are probably a lot of distant relatives in that family who would love to manipulate you into disputing Nikolas's claim."

Sam dropped her eyes to the floor. "Actually, Jason has been pretty preoccupied by the whole Sonny and Emily thing," she said quietly. "He's been getting pretty upset whenever I bring up Alexis and whether or not I should tell her. I finally decided to get irrefutable proof, so that if I _do_ say anything, Alexis can't deny it."

"Well, I'm _so_ glad to be your partner-in-crime." Robin rolled her eyes. "But after this, you're on your own, at least for a little while."

Sam looked up. "What's going on?" Her jaw dropped as a thought occurred to her. "Oh my God," she breathed. "What happened last night to the Haunted Star...tell me that didn't have anything to do with you."

"We don't know," Robin grimaced. "I mean, it's a pretty powerful message to all our families, so it is pretty likely that Faison --that's the guy who's doing all of this -- was behind it. Actually," she added, "If this test proves you're Alexis's daughter, you could be in danger, too."

"So even though those guys made a mistake in going after me," Sam concluded, "This guy could go after the Cassadines, anyway?"

Robin nodded. "He has just as sticky a history with that family as he does with mine. I'm just saying, the results of this test could change your life in ways you weren't anticipating." She frowned. "I'm surprised Jason isn't more concerned. I mean, he knows how dangerous the Cassadines can be."

Sam didn't say anything to that. Instead, she merely asked, "How much longer until the results of the test?"

"Not much--" A buzzer went off, indicating the sequencing test was complete. "Okay, then. The comparison of your DNA to the DNA I extracted from the coffee cup -- by the way, you _so_ owe me for this -- should be printing out now."

Robin walked over to a different machine, where a series of transparencies were appearing. Robin took them over to a light box and put them up, looking at the two elongated and computerized strands of DNA. She frowned at what she saw, and went over to another computer, quickly typing something in. Another printer spat out a series of papers, and Robin grabbed them and walked back to the light box display. Sam watched Robin work and held her breath. She couldn't figure out what Robin's expression meant.

"I don't...This doesn't make any sense," Robin muttered.

Sam walked over to her. "Why? What is it?"

Robin turned to Sam. "Are you certain that was Alexis's cup?"

"Yeah. I saw her drink from it, and I grabbed it before anyone else touched it. Why?"

"Because according to these results," Robin said, waving a hand towards the transparencies, "Alexis is not your mother."

The air rushed out of Sam's lungs. "What?" she gasped. "That's impossible! I'm _positive_ of what we found out--"

"Sam, I'm not finished," Robin said urgently. "If she was your mother, you'd have identical mitochondrial DNA strands, but you don't. According to this comparison, you and Alexis _are_ related, you're just not mother and daughter." She held up the papers she had printed. "I ran a statistical analysis of the protein markers on your DNA strands, and according to this, the two of you are most likely related through a close male relative."

"I don't understand," Sam breathed. "What...How..."

Robin snapped the papers she was holding in frustration. "I'd need the DNA of a man related to both of you to figure out how closely you're related. But since I can't even say which side of Alexis's family you come from--"

"Robin," Sam interrupted, reaching for her bag. "About that..." She extracted a second coffee cup.

"Oh, you have _got_ to be kidding me," Robin groaned. "You stole Nikolas's cup, too?"

"I did not _steal_," Sam retorted. "I...took it without anyone knowing."

"Yeah," Robin sighed. "That's also known as _stealing_."

"Whatever," Sam waved it off. "Can you use this?"

"You mean can I commit two acts of medical malpractice instead of one?"

Sam just looked at Robin and held the cup out. "You're down for the count, anyway."

Robin huffed out a breath and snatched the cup from Sam's hands. "You know, I'm having more and more trouble remembering why I moved back to Port Charles." She didn't wait for Sam to respond, and just walked over to her workbench where she performed the necessary steps to extract enough saliva from the coffee cup to insert into the sequencer. "I repeat," she said under her breath, "You owe me so big for this."

Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine. Jason and I will name our firstborn child after you."

Despite the situation, Robin snickered. "That oughta send Carly to an early grave."

Sam laughed in kind. "All the more reason, then."

Robin finished setting up the sequencer and walked back to the light box. "This won't take long."

The momentary humor drained away, and the two women waited in silence as the machine ran a DNA comparison on the three samples. After what seemed like an eternity, new transparencies began printing, as well as a second statistical analysis. Robin took the new printouts over to the light box and put them up. She gasped sharply at what she saw, and immediately looked to the computer printout for confirmation. She turned to Sam, her eyes wide open in shock.

"What?" Sam asked nervously. "What is it?"

"I...This..."

"Robin!"

Robin forced herself to shake the stupor. It didn't matter how beyond belief it was, she knew how to read a DNA comparison. It didn't matter that it didn't make sense. "You..." Robin trailed off, shook her head, and tried again. "You need to come with us."

Sam blinked. "Huh?"

"I'm going out of town for a while," Robin said quickly. "Me, Patrick, Lulu Spencer, and Bobby Donoley. There's something we need to investigate in London that might hold the answer to what Faison is after me for, and it's probably safer if we split up our families right now. You need to come with us."

"Robin, what on Earth is--"

"You _are_ related to Alexis and Nikolas," Robin gulped. "You and Nikolas have too many DNA sequences in common, except for your mitochondrial DNA. You don't have a mother in common, but you do have--"

"Robin, you can't be serious."

"Sam, this is about as acurate as it gets." She looked up Sam, fear for the other woman shining in her eyes. "According to this, the most likely conclusion is that you and Nikolas have the same father. _Stavros Cassadine_."

"Wait," Sam shook her head, trying to absorb everything. "You just said that because I'm older than Nikolas, I could be considered a threat to--"

"That's _exactly_ what I'm saying," Robin nodded. "Assuming your birth date is correct, you are the first-born child of Stavros Cassadine, not Nikolas. It doesn't matter who your mother is. This is enough reason for Helena and every other Cassadine left alive to want you dead. You have to get out of Port Charles."


End file.
